


How Close You Are

by seaofolives



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: 30 Days of Writing, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Prophecy (Final Fantasy XV), M/M, Not Beta Read, October Prompt Challenge, Older Gladiolus Amicitia, Older Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Older Ignis Scientia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 31,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26748631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaofolives/pseuds/seaofolives
Summary: When Gladiolus Amicitia accompanies Noctis Lucis Caelum to Lestallum, he thinks only of clean air, blue skies and his duty to his prince. Little did he know that a near-accident would bring his present and his past together—starting with a man namedStupeo.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 54
Kudos: 42





	1. gun

**Author's Note:**

> hello, welcome to my 30-day challenge for october 2020!! i did this in a previous fandom (which a certain pair of directors with repeating names shat on 🙄🙄🙄) and it was really fun and hectic so i thought i might do it again! combining prompts from #xvtober, #igtober and #gladtober, i'll be posting one chapter per prompt per day, all written and briefly polished on the same day. so this is going to be another crazy ride, lmao, and it'll be really dirty and weird but hey, it's part of the challenge! \o/
> 
> title also comes from a song by mamoru miyano. thanks, ignis! 👓👍🏼

“ _—anyway, hereʼs one for the history kids!_ ” the energetic DJ started anew after digressing about the latest spat between Professor Sania Yeagre and the Sacred Church of Bahamut. “ _What…was the natural disaster…that devastated the Crown City of Insomnia exactly 10 years ago? Comment your answers to our social media accounts,_ ” he went on to list the entire slew of them in one breath, “ _and you and a friend could be the lucky winners of two tickets to the premiere of Rage of the Pyreburner! When we come back, weʼll be welcoming our first guest so stay tuned!_ ” His show jingle came on, followed by an Exineris commercial. 

He started to chuckle, a lazy smile pulling its way up to his scarred cheek. “Good to know we could be of service.” 

“Oh, youʼre awake?” 

He opened his eyes to scan their surroundings as he pushed himself up his corner of the backseat. “Yeah,” he answered their driver. “Just now.” There was nothing to be seen through his window except for a rustic brick wall that went on and on but across his side, where his fellow passenger purred like a cat as he napped, arches interrupted the boring facade of the tunnel, giving them fleeting peeks of the nature beneath them. 

Almost at its finest. He reached over to the little panel on his friendʼs side and pushed the window open. The sound of the road, of cars rolling past and the music of the wind blowing into their confined space stunned him half-awake. “Rise and shine, Prince.” 

That bleary look of alarm transitioned smoothly into an irritated frown before he shoved him back to his own corner. “Shut up, Gladio,” he mumbled, running his bunched up paws over his eyes to rub them awake. 

Gladio tossed his cap to him before he pulled the black band from his hair to redo his half-pony. It was time to get to work. “Thought you couldnʼt wait to visit Lestallum, Noct?” 

“Thought I told you to shut up,” Noctis retorted, yawning at the end of it. Heʼd covered his wide gaping mouth too late with his gloved fist before he shoved the cap onto his messy black hair. “What timeʼs it?” 

“Almost 2,” Gladio answered, pulling his shoulders back with a grateful grunt, as if they werenʼt already late for check-in. It had been a long car ride from the Crown City and all those stops they made along the way certainly didnʼt help. There was no two-ways about it, though—if the prince was hungry, they had to stop, if he was feeling boxed in, they had to stretch their legs a little. It wasnʼt just that he was a prince, after all—he had to be in peak performance for the next few days, as well. 

“Fuck, seriously?” Noctis looked at his sports watch in alarm and then at the quaint little town that spread itself out before them as they finally exited the long tunnel. “Where's the hotel?” 

That was the first thing Gladio pulled up in his navigation app as soon as they turned towards the parking signs, finding themselves a slot one level below the road. 

Noctis practically tripped out of the car as soon as the wheels had stopped turning. “Gladio, hurry!” He looked like he would have bolted onwards to the hotel if he didnʼt think it was worth it to waste a little more time to wait on his friend. 

“I still gotta get our stuff,” Gladio announced, stepping out in a more orderly fashion while their driver opened up the boot. “You go ahead and check us in.” 

“Gladio!” Noctis protested, again baring his teeth and stomping his foot. Then again, Gladio wouldnʼt be here if he could do something like that on his own. 

Gladio sighed out not-so-quietly at the reminder before he turned to the driver and asked him to hold on to their stuff while he checked themselves in. 

Luckily for them, _The Leville_ held an extraordinary amount of patience for those who booked their Royal Suite and was very happy to waive the late check-in fee, even to help them out with their bags which they rolled in all the way from the parking area. 

While Noctis sat on the massive queen-sized bed in the middle of the masterʼs bedroom, chatting with someone on his phone, Gladio approached their driver in the living room. He was the only guy standing while the hotel staff put away their clothes, their bags under Gladioʼs watchful eye. Premium service for a premium price. 

“Thanks for the hard work.” Gladio passed him a brown envelope which he saluted with and slipped inside the inner pocket of his jacket. “So…weʼll see ya in two weeks? Sorry we couldnʼt extend it.” 

“No, itʼs fine, Sir.” Their driver waved his apology off with a happy look about his face before he handed him a black leather keychain in turn, which Gladio kept in his own leather jacket. “Seriously, two weeks is way more than I ever got and Iʼm just glad to be home.” 

“Your husband know youʼre here?” 

“Yeah.” He sounded anxious when he answered, smile bright. “Husband, kids, sister, grandfather, aunt, the whole family knows.” 

“Have fun, then,” Gladio clapped him on his arm. “Send ‘em my regards. Iʼll take care of the Regalia while youʼre out.” 

“Much obliged, Sir.” The driver bowed deeply. “Oh! Though Iʼll see you in a few days for the festival…anyway.” He jutted his thumb backwards. “Iʼll take my leave now. Your Highness!” he called to the younger man in his bed who raised his brows at him. He bowed to him, too. “Iʼll root for you in the match!” 

“As if you have a choice!” Noctis jabbed at him. Then waved his arm. 

He left with the rest of the staff, the head of whom received a hefty tip from Gladio, to be split among them. 

As soon as they were gone, Gladio could finally take off his jacket and pull his soaked tank top off his pants. He let out a whistle, wrinkling his face in discomfort. Technically, Insomnia was a part of the desert region of Leide but thanks to their Crystal Technology and the body of water that surrounded them, they could makedo. But out here, in tropical Cleigne… 

“Hey, Prince!” Gladio beckoned to the younger man, stripping off his shirt on his way to the bedroom. “Whatsay we get outta here, get us some fresh air?” 

Noctisʼ answer came in the form of a high jump and stumbling feet as he pulled his closet open and sifted through his collection of dark clothes, all made ready for his perusal. Gladioʼs job required him to snap at the prince. “Hey, be careful, you donʼt wanna hurt yourself!” 

He couldnʼt, though, truly get mad at him. In the 15 years heʼd served the royal family, he had personally seen how far the prince had come since he lost his mother in an unfortunate tragedy. He started off as the bodyguard of a reclusive 5-year old, then became his friend, his brother and mentor. 

So this clumsy energy, the stupid way he wore his shirt backwards first and then getting mad at Gladio for laughing at him and scowling at _him_ to go get dressed…it was his hard work paying off. Them being out there in Lestallum, too—that was a part of it. 

Something they had both been looking forward to since, perhaps, the start of the year, in the middle of winter. Now summer had come to this side of Lucis and everything the sun could touch burned with the heat of its love. The white cobbles under their feet, the glass tables laid out in the streets, banners promoting the _Cleigne Summer Festival_ with barely any wind to blow it… 

The wide blue skies overhead had nary a trace of a cloud, and being so high up the hill, Gladio almost felt like they could touch it. 

“So cool,” Noctis laughed, trying to reach for it. “Iʼve never seen it this blue!” 

Gladio was no Oracle or whatever, but he dared enough to say that this was a good sign about this trip. 

“Itʼs the pollution,” Gladio said, landing a heavy arm on his chargeʼs shoulders to nudge him onwards from the main plaza, back to the lookout which they had ironically overlooked in their haste to get checked in. One couldnʼt come to Lestallum without having a moment on it, of course. “The Crown Cityʼs congested up to the neck so we got all that smoke covering up the skies.” 

“But out here,” Noctis started to laugh at his own joke, the idiot, “thereʼs only smoke coming up the grill!” 

“Thatʼs something I can get behind.” Gladio grinned at the starry-eyed prince. “So how ‘bout some kebabs, eh?” 

Noctis whipped at him. “Are you treating?” Because of course that was the most important question to ask. 

Gladio did get a little revenge when he squeezed his arm tighter around his neck and hauled his royal ass across the wide, empty road, down two curving steps until they made it to the lookout where Noctis finally managed to pull himself free. 

“That hurt!” was his delayed protest, fangs bared like some minor threat. 

“Iʼd be more worried if it didnʼt,” Gladio snickered, marching alongside the prince, past tables full of tourists, likely coming for the festival, as well. And where the tourists were, so were the noisy hawkers, clapping their hands, braying their specialties: catoblepas jerkies, behemoth tenders, deep-fried basilisk skins… 

“Everything looks so good,” Noctis swooned, then grabbed for Gladioʼs tank top and pointed to a kiosk at the other side of the lookout, where flames were leaping and a fair-haired man was juggling knives and as a part of the show. “Look at that guy!!” 

“Seriously, check him out,” Gladio echoed. He performed before a handful of spectators, all with their phones trained to him. Beside him, a noisy blond guy, was hollering to the passersby, pitch high and sharp. 

“Get it while itʼs hot, hot, hot,” he cried out to them. “Ten-percent off Stupeoʼs spicy new recipe just for today!” Ten-percent off? Wait, more to the point—

“Stupeo?” Gladio rolled the name off his tongue while he watched Stupeo toss a tomato overhead and catch it on his knife from the back, to everyoneʼs applause. Stupeo, where had he heard that name from—

“Oh, I like the sound of that!” Noctis cackled in excitement. He took one step forward. 

The moment he cursed under his breath, Gladio snapped out of his reverie, and instinctively pulled the prince closer to him so he could use his bulk to hide his face. “What is it?” he muttered, scanning the sparse crowd for the suspect—

Oh shit. 

“Itʼs her,” Noctis hissed, voice tight. _She_ was a woman who tripped out of her bench, nearly upsetting the tray of another passing tourist as she locked her bloodshot eyes on them, stumbling on closer. “Whatʼs she doing here?” 

“Stalking you, what else?” Gladio growled hatefully. Was it too much to ask for a peaceful afternoon out in a foreign town? He started to pull his charge by the elbow to turn them around. 

“Black Prince?!” 

“Ignore her,” Gladio ordered him, to which Noctis nodded eagerly. “Stay close to me and stay small.” He started to lead him back up the stairwell. 

“No…no, I just want to talk!” she shrieked. She was running to them. Gladio tensed his muscles, ready to subdue her. “Donʼt leave! I said _donʼt leave!!_ ” 

A wild gasp filled the lookout. When Gladio and Noctis turned back, to his horror, she was pointing a gun at them. 

Gladio cursed under his breath and dragged the prince behind him to cover him with his body. He could feel Noctis shrinking, pressed up against him like his 5-year old self. “Maʼam,” he beckoned to her, putting out a hand in the hopes of calming her down. “Please, put the gun down, this isnʼt the way to do this.” Of all things, why did it have to be a gun! 

“I will shoot you if you take one step farther!!” she threatened them with a voice scraped raw by her emotions. She was tearing up because of course she would. “Please, I just want to talk to His Highness. Why is loving him so bad?!” Oh for the love of—

“We can talk!” Gladio promised her, planting his feet on the ground when he could feel Noctis tugging him backwards, eager to be out of there. Gladio sympathized but this was a delicate situation. Unstable emotions, a potentially loaded gun… “Weʼll talk, okay? But you gotta put the gun down.” 

She shook her head. “If I do, heʼll just run away again. I want him to come here first, _I want—!_ ” 

Of all things to interrupt her, it was the plumpest tomato Gladio had ever seen, landing right onto the side of her face. The moment she screamed and flailed her gun wildly at the same direction, a man appeared out of nowhere, grabbing her fast and twisting her until he was slamming her, face first onto the table, gun arm twisted behind her. His fair hair was done up into a suave pompadour. 

Gladio could hardly believe it. Of all the people who would come to their rescue, it was none other than Stupeo himself.


	2. royal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw, did i mention that the other title of this fic is _research whomst_?

Stupeo—if that really _was_ his name—was a tall man, longer than he was wide. Hair unruffled, face nonchalant, he braced a hand on their stalkerʼs left shoulder, pressing it to the wood, and another on her killing arm which he shifted higher up her back for that tight yelp. Being shorter and skinnier and maybe even far less stable than her captor, Gladio couldnʼt imagine that this would only be a mild discomfort on her part. One part of him felt sorry for what she was getting. 

But mostly, he was just relieved that someone else managed to diffuse the situation before he ever got his bigger, more powerful hands on her. The funny twist of events lured Noctis out of his hiding space. 

“Stay behind me,” Gladio told him, putting one arm up to block him. Now a skinny man was tripping out of the thicker curtain of tourists, some of which were assholes who couldnʼt keep their cameras to themselves (because violent stalker or not, she needed help, not ridicule). Gangly shoulders with lean muscular arms, his complexion was a particular kind of rosy fairness, blonde hair styled upwards in waves, artfully tousled…

That noisy hawker with the 10-percent discount. Turns out, that wasnʼt all he was good for. With the stalkerʼs arm twisted uncomfortably, there was no way she could have stopped him from capturing her gun despite her raging protests. The authorities had arrived just then, panting and blushing in their full dark uniforms under the heat. Gladio felt the tension melt away faster from his shoulders. 

“Whoooah, this is counterfeit!” the blonde hawker announced in his cheerful timbre while he expertly released the magazine and pulled the barrel to peek in through the back, muzzle pointed downwards. A clear sign that he knew what he was doing. “Nifl spring and chamber mounted in an Insomnian barrel…how much did you pay for this custom?” But anyway, he was already disassembling it, wandering slowly to the next table as he pulled the top part from the grip, dissected it for the coil… 

It was almost hypnotic, watching the gun break apart like some time-lapse in his hands, falling piece by piece onto the wood. 

“Considering how she was able to deliver some part of this plot at all, I wonʼt be surprised how gutsy she could be.” Stupeo spoke with an unwavering level of ease and control, even as the woman twisted and screeched and kicked when he pulled her up to her feet. “She will need professional help. Will the town be able to provide?” He was talking to the approaching uniforms, adjusting his glasses. They gave him a vague mumble and a few nods but what else could he ask for? He was a business owner whose day job was to make food and put on shows for his customers. 

So he let them take her from him, then straightened up his patterned shirt, as if it was all a part of the dayʼs work. Hands on his sides, he watched them leave. Gladio breathed out in relief. 

His friend seemed to snap in attention all of a sudden, and made a perfect ballerina whirl to wave to the crowd as if at the end of a performance. “Yes, thank you all for your support! Donʼt forget to drop by Stupeoʼs Hot Shots for our limited time special offer! Just this way, Maʼams and Sirs, right this way…” He started getting into their faces, then. 

Depending on what the desired effect was, that was probably the fastest Gladio had ever seen a crowd disperse. All those faces turned away from the noisy hawker who directed them to the unmanned kiosk just across the midsection of the lookout. 

Granting Noctis the space he needed to instantly feel at ease. Gladio could tell it from the long breath he just released, his sagging weight which he leaned against his bulk. He responded swiftly, putting an arm around the princeʼs shoulders while he took his hand, as if he could feel it shaking in its glove. He couldnʼt but he wouldnʼt stop there. 

“Close your eyes, Noct, ears on my voice,” Gladio rumbled closely to him, grasping instantly for control of the situation. The prince obeyed readily, drawing in a deep breath as soon as Gladio started counting to four then releasing it on cue. They would do this for a few more times, he thought. 

Until then, he would find them a place to sit, somewhere he could breathe. A quick look around the space brought some benches facing out to the open world to his attention. 

And the blonde friend whistling and dusting his hands on his jeans as he sauntered back to Stupeo…who was watching them closely. “Typical tourists. They only love you when youʼre the tourist attraction but the moment you turn them into one…” He sighed out melodically. “Well! At least that takes care of that.” He jammed his hands in his worn jeans, smiling first at his friend and then at their direction. 

“Ah!” he started like a bird and made to run to them—

“Not now.” Stupeo caught him with a quick hand on his shoulder, guiding his energetic young friend back to his side. 

Gladio nodded his thanks to him before he checked in on his charge. “And exhale,” he finished. Noctis looked visibly more relaxed now, for whatever it was worth. “You good?” He nodded slightly. “Iʼm gonna bring you somewhere to sit, okay?” 

“Perhaps some water could help relax him,” Stupeo offered from where he kept his distance. His friend bounced backwards in an instant and saluted just before he raced to their kiosk. 

Gladio turned this question to Noctis, even though he knew what the answer would be. It was a tedious process but it was important for him to remind the prince that he was completely in control of everything. 

As soon as he gave his consent, they started moving, following Stupeoʼs lead onwards, across the suddenly quieter lookout. “Hey, thanks for handling the situation earlier.” He could finally voice it out now that things had calmed down. “I donʼt know how you learned how to do it but you did. Weʼre grateful.” 

“On the contrary, itʼs the least I can do to make up for what happened,” Stupeo retorted, glancing back at them. He had various nicks up along his brows, nose and lips, and a strange accent, familiar in two ways but not wholly. “I must assure you, though, that that doesnʼt normally happen here.” What an interesting character. 

“Well, we donʼt normally come here either,” Gladio shared. Past the garden island that marked the center of the lookout, he stirred them towards the benches. “Itʼs actually our first time away from the Crown City.” Well, not him per se, but. He wasnʼt about to single out Noctis here. 

“Indeed?” Stupeoʼs brows scaled up his forehead. “In which case, further apologies are required.” He reached for the bottled water from his running friend. 

“You kidding?” Gladio laughed a little. He settled Noctis in the bench, handing him the cool drink after he uncapped it. “You saved our lives and it wasnʼt even your job.” 

“As a local, and especially one whose livelihood highly benefits from tourism, it _is_ my responsibility to ensure that Lestallum remains safe for visitors.” He jutted up his eyebrow. “Especially if said visitor is a man of royal blood.” 

“Oh yeah?” Now it was Gladioʼs turn to raise his brow on him as he took his place next to Noctis, making sure he kept an arm around him while he sipped from the bottle. The blonde man tripped his way into their group, leaning his weight onto their bench. “Didnʼt take you for a royalist.” In general, the farther away one was from the Crown City, the less popular the royal family was. 

“I am not,” Stupeo corrected him. “But I do know my politics. And I like to read the papers when I can.” 

“No need to be up in arms about it,” Gladio chuckled. When Noctis groaned and leaned his head back to his arm, he focused his attention on him again. “Hey. Still remember where you are?” 

“Mm…yeah,” Noctis moaned. “Iʼm in a place where youʼre treating.” 

Gladio nudged him off his arm with a sharp tut, though the most effect that achieved was only for Noctisʼ head to bounce a little like some sluggish ball before it settled on his muscles again. “Yeah, youʼre all right.” And now—so was he. Day saved. 

Stupeo brought his hands to the top of the bench to look more closely at him, pushing back his glasses. “That was quite a scare, wasnʼt it?” At that very moment, Gladio decided that he liked the guy. Sharp, eloquent, respectful, and just the fact that he validated Noctisʼ trauma at all. “I do apologize for the kind of welcome you received from us.” 

Noctis peeked at him from one open eye. “You the mayor of this town or something?” 

Stupeo lifted an artful brow again. “If I was, you can bet this wouldnʼt have happened.” And cool and cocky, too! If it was at all appropriate, Gladio would be grinning like a behemoth right now. What a fun guy! “But seeing as Iʼm not, Iʼm afraid I cannot offer you any fair recompense for what happened. All the same, I should like to make it up to you. How about…” He straightened up, flowing smoothly into a magnificent posture as he turned to his friend who was bouncing his head to an absent rhythm. One thing was for sure now—this guyʼs had some form of training. “A little…royal roulette?” 

“Royal rou—” Those sky blue eyes looked like they nearly tore themselves wide open as the young blonde jutted his face towards Stupeo. “You mean— _that_ kind of roulette?!” 

“Indeed.” To prove it…whatever it was, Stupeo started back to his kiosk. Gladio and Noctis whirled at each other, seeking advice from both their confused looks. 

But the blonde man whistled and hooted as if it was the best thing in the world before he raced back to their base. They would be idiots not to follow their lead. “This is gonna look great in social media! Hey!” He spun around again to face them, hopping backwards all the way to the grilling station where Stupeo was preparing for his roulette. “Is it okay if I use this for social media?” He described the opening lines of his post, then, hand out in the air. “Two-time Fencing Champion Black Prince brings up the heat in Stupeoʼs Hot Shots!” 

“Make that three,” Noctis volunteered, smiling now, much to the blonde manʼs impressive swoon. The fact that he was boasting at all meant that he really was feeling better now, which single-handedly improved Gladioʼs mood. “Just won the Leide Championship Cup like last week. Thatʼs why Iʼm here for the Lucian Championship Cup.” 

The blonde hawker laughed joyously, pulling his fists down, his knee up. “Even better! Hey, Ignis, did you hear that?!” Wait. 

“Ignis?” Gladio turned from his friend to the man behind the grill guzzling down a sleek vacuum flask, glasses in hand. But… 

He drew his eyes up to the board with the business name, complete with fire cutting through the sides in some 3D cutout effect. _Stupeoʼs Hot Shots_ was emblazoned boldly in tilted words, the second O in the shape of a skull with crossbones, and the third replaced by a cameraʼs lenses. “So whoʼs Stupeo?” 

“Neither of us,” Not-Stupeo answered, snapping his fingers at his social media manager who whipped out a black bandana from somewhere in their side. “Itʼs a business name is what it is. Make sure you pin it for extra security, Prompto.” 

“Roger that!” Ignis and Prompto. Definitely not one name that sounded like _Stupeo_. Combined, Gladio thought there might be something to it but it was still quite a stretch. 

Behind the kiosk, Ignis stood still while Prompto fastened the bandana around his eyes, turning it into a blindfold. As instructed, he added a pair of hairpins on each side, like a magician rolling up his sleeves to the audience. No tricks, they said. 

Then Prompto hurried back out, phone ready while Ignis pulled out two of his trustee knives and slid them onto each other to sharpen—oh shit. 

He meant to cook while he was blindfolded. 

“Holy shit, youʼre serious?!” There was equal parts terror and excitement in Noctisʼ exclamation. Gladio figured, then, that this was something he would enjoy… _if_ this Ignis fellow managed to actually make it happen. Gladioʼs overprotection brought his hands urgently to the princeʼs shoulders to pull him back. 

He only managed to move him one step before he held his ground, and now they were under the mercy of Ignisʼ knife skills and maybe the gods if they were watching. 

And as if things werenʼt bad enough, after tossing his knives between both hands a couple of times, Ignis decided to set everything on fire by spraying oil right into the grill. 

Hungry flames jumped out to life, Gladio and Noctis both imitating the action in their surprise while Prompto focused on capturing everything in his camera. The meat finally came in, beautiful pink marbles in skewers, four sticks right at the heart of the heat. 

Without barely a pause, Ignis stabbed a fat onion from the working station to his right, tossed it with the knife while he stowed the other away so he could catch it safely and start cutting the bulb straight into the fire. For whatever it was worth, Gladio thought, he at least wouldnʼt be crying at the fumes and the smoke. The bell pepper went the same way. 

And then he flipped each skewer, one after the next using his knives. The sides had browned and were starting to char beautifully. 

Gladio wouldnʼt want to be caught admitting it but he was getting hungry. 

“Shall we make it spicy, gents?” Ignis asked, calm as the weather while he ran a cube of butter over the skewers by knife point. 

“Uh…” Gladio began when Noctis jabbed him with his elbow to pass him the cue. He was starting to sweat, as if from the pressure of the princeʼs command. “S, sure.” 

“How spicy?” Ignis asked him, turning his face to him. Gladio felt his heart stutter to a complete stop. The cook knew where he was and he could actually imagine that he was _really_ looking at him from behind the blindfold. He hated to admit it because this was a dangerous venture but…he was really impressed by now! 

“Just donʼt skin our tongue,” Gladio answered. 

Ignis smirked cheerfully before he curtsied to his royal customers. “As you wish.” Then he was back at it, juggling his knives as he flipped the stuff on the grill, never missing or overshooting. After briefly checking the smell of the smoke, he moved them over to the cooler part of the grill, in some combination of a flip and a toss. 

A tin mug of sauce came in hand which he mixed with the brush before he spread them onto the skewers, thoroughly enough that he didnʼt miss. Then he scooped them all up with his knives to transfer them to a plate, tossed the vegetables in, dusted everything in red, topped them with sesame seeds… 

Gladio couldnʼt hold himself back from whooping and applauding with his ecstatic prince as soon as Ignis had pulled the pins loose and his blindfold down, a triumphant look riding high on his cheeks. He looked breathless and elated, gazing upon his masterpiece while he swept his hand over his pompadour. 

When he looked up to face him, Gladio swore those green eyes sparkled like a new dawn.


	3. sacrifice

That first day in Lestallum taught Gladio many things. You could never be too careful even in a place where no one (supposedly) knew you. You _could_ rely on the kindness of strangers. 

And 5-oʼclock looked vastly different on a hilltop in Cleigne than in the valleys of the Crown City. Even during the summer, he always thought the sun set too fast in that place—a bit of sunset yellow, some long shadows here and there, and then the night comes. 

Out here, though, everything was soaked in the blazing golden light of dusk, turning Lestallum into a canvas of yet another kind of painting. If this kind of look was ever sold as a postcard in the local bookstores, Gladio thought he might be compelled to buy all five versions, maybe three copies each. One for giving, one for keeping, one for display. 

“Man,” he said all of a sudden, bringing his bottle of beer to his mouth, “thatʼs beautiful.” 

His companion chuckled deeply, knowingly. Maybe in approval. “You mean the skies, I presume?” 

“Yeah,” Gladio answered. “Now I understand why you came out here to sell your food. I thought it was because the market was already too crowded and maybe the rent out here is cheaper.” 

A verdict which made Ignis laugh with a bit more liveliness. After that Royal Roulette (which turned out to be a secret menu, offered only to a special few), he decided to close up for the day. He grilled more barbecues for them—behemoth pup and chickatrice, sweet and spicy both—then spent the rest of the afternoon in their company. 

Now he and Gladio sat side by side each other atop the dining table while across them, Prompto was talking Noctisʼ ear out on the bench. Gauging from the princeʼs posture, though, he was anything but bored and annoyed. 

Gladio tilted himself a little towards the cook. “Thanks for doing this.” Ignis cast high brows on him, questioning. “I mean,” he directed his bottle to Prompto coming up to his feet, and looking like he was demonstrating riding something, “this.” Noctis pulled himself off his slouched form, elbows on his knees, watching closely. “Saving the prince, keeping him company.” 

“You think we did it for the prince?” 

“Even if you didnʼt, Iʼm still grateful,” Gladio made sure to explain that. “You know, anyone could come here whenever they want, but not the prince. Until he won the cup last week, we werenʼt even sure we would go. Obviously, Noct wanted it, but His Majesty worried over his safety and wanted to send, I think, two squads of the Crownsguard with us. But then Noct started to withdraw from the idea because of that. Took me days to convince the king I could protect him all on my own before he agreed.” 

“So you are the princeʼs bodyguard.” 

“Yeah,” Gladio said with little nods. 

“He seems to trust you a fair deal,” Ignis observed, putting his cheek on his fist, those green eyes and his broad shoulders centered to him. It wasnʼt news to Gladio. 

But it still made him huff out a proud, “Huh,” a sloppy smirk decorating his face. Then he showed five fingers to Ignis, revealing to him, “Thatʼs 15 years of hard work for you.” He wasnʼt always one to boast but if his audience was asking for it… 

“Truly?” Ignis sat up a little. Gladio wagged his thick brows at him to confirm his surprise before he pulled again from the bottle. “How…my, thatʼs quite astounding.” 

“Thatʼs almost half my life in the service of the prince.” 

“We are not too far apart, then.” Another observation made on the side. “Fifteen years, and you never once thought of quitting?” Since Ignis put it that way, Gladio became suddenly aware of the length of his service. 

“I canʼt really,” Gladio confessed. He set his eyes back on his charge. How he was leaning closer to Prompto, both of them appearing as if to look at something together. Completely comfortable with this stranger. “And itʼs not just the money, yʼknow? Or because my dadʼs best friends with the king or that the Crown paid for my and my sisterʼs education.” He cleared his throat, sniffled a little, bounced on his ass to get more comfortable. Ignis fixed himself so that he was facing him more with his form. 

“See, Noct lost his mom at a young age,” he began, looking at Ignis who listened to him with two woven fists under his chin. “I think it was during Kingsʼ Day, back in the early years of the parliament. The royal family made a public appearance when some rallyists broke through the barricade and thought they could bring down the monarchy themselves. The resulting chaos caused a stampede and Noct got separated from his mom who was caught in the crush. She was declared brain dead upon arrival.” 

“Oh dear…” Ignisʼ brows tightened. 

“Tell me about it,” Gladio agreed. “As soon as I turned 18, they hired me to be his bodyguard. Not much work protecting a kid who doesnʼt wanna leave the castle, anyway, but I could see he was wasting away. And yʼknow, I couldnʼt just sit by and let that happen.” He shrugged, while Ignis nodded in understanding. “When he realized we could be friends, it became a lot easier. When he needed a hobby ‘cause he couldnʼt go out and fish during the rain—” Ignis laughed quietly again. Gladio brightened up, gesturing to him. “Hey, you know?” 

“Of the princeʼs love for fishing?” Ignis rolled his eyes. “The fish vendor down in the market must have become his fan solely because of this. Iʼm kept abreast of his development as an angler thanks to her. Whenever the news announces a big catch, she makes sure she brings some to the stall and puts a promotion together. Iʼm pretty sure she bought first row tickets to his match in the festival.” 

“Yikes, thanks for telling me that.” Gladio rubbed his neck. 

“He doesnʼt like people?” 

“Itʼs the attention, yʼknow?” He began to explain to those curious eyes which seemed to anchor him, whatever he did. “He doesnʼt like it when he feels like everyoneʼs looking at him, watching him.” With his hands, he made as if to crush the empty bottle between them. “Makes him feel claustrophobic and reminds him of the stampede.” 

“I see.” Ignis frowned. “So the stalker from earlier must have been quite traumatic for him, gun notwithstanding.” 

“‘xactly,” Gladio told him, happy to be on the same page as him. “Which is why Iʼll never forget what you and Prompto did. When I said you saved his life, you literally saved his life.” 

“Of course…but itʼs the price of fame, though.” Now Ignis shrugged. “Was that not considered before he was allowed to fence?” No accusations, no questioning the decisions they made for the shy prince. Ignis really was a thoughtful kind of guy. 

With another triumphant smirk, Gladio wore his hand over his face. “Thatʼs what the mask is for. And all those layers of protection makes him forget all that attention, focus on the duel. Itʼs why I suggested fencing as a hobby, just to give him something. Tried it once, so I thought I could coach him. Then he got really good about it and started competing.” He pointed to the bruised skies with the bottle. “And now weʼre here. His first time outta Insomnia.” Still a point of fact, a miracle that made him laugh. “Sometimes I almost forget this is the same kid who couldnʼt even leave the castle 15 years ago.” 

“What a journey,” Ignis agreed with a subtle breath of awe, just enough to tickle Gladio with a true sense of pride. He was a master listener if Gladio had ever seen one, he thought. He was like a magnet for words without even trying hard for the sake of manners. A real, genuine guy; a rare type. “You must be so proud of what you did,” he went on, pulling his shoulders back. “I canʼt imagine the amount of sacrifice that must have taken.” 

“There was a lot,” was all Gladio said of it, laughing suddenly after the fact. He scratched his temple a little. Now that he thought about it, this felt like the first time someone had complimented him for his job. “Itʼs work cut out for two people. Iʼm proud of him, though,” he continued, searching for his charge. Now he was on the balcony pointing at something underneath him and Prompto. “I wouldnʼt have gotten him out if he wasnʼt brave enough to give it a try.” 

“Iʼm sure it is only because of you.” 

That was his heart speaking, he thought. When Gladio looked for it, he saw it in Ignisʼ smile, the subtle twinkling stars in his eyes that matched the streetlights now alive in the early evening. Strange, how his chest felt full and giddy suddenly. 

“You know…” Ignis twisted himself towards him again, propping his cheek on his fist, elbow on the higher knee of his crossed legs. Gladio shifted closer in the same way. “Youʼve told me all about the prince but you neglected to add one rather important detail.” 

“I did?” Gladio pulled his brows tight, though his smile betrayed his amusement. 

“Whatʼs your name?” Oh. 

It made him laugh, the sound filling the empty air, drawing both Noctis and Promptoʼs attention to them. He waved his hand, told them to go back to their own world. He wasnʼt keen to share his yet. 

“Right, sorry.” Gladio scratched his temple again. 

“Itʼs quite all right,” Ignis assured him light-heartedly. 

Gladio offered his hand to him, then. “Iʼm Gladiolus Amicitia. But call me Gladio. Only the king and my dad and my sister if sheʼs angry get Gladiolus rights.” 

Ignis laughed, “Very well, then,” and clasped his hand for a firm shake. “Ignis Scientia.” _Scientia?_

Gladioʼs eyes became alight with recognition. “Like House Scientia? Dude, youʼre Insomnian!” No wonder his accent sounded familiar in a weird way! It was a mixture of home and this northern town. 

“ _Was_ Insomnian,” Ignis corrected him with a finger. “That was more than ten years ago.” He spread his hand to the ground beneath their feet. “I live here now.” He really was up in arms about it. 

“So whoʼs Stupeo?” Gladio asked again. Ignisʼ rolling eyes made him snicker and grin. “No, seriously.” 

“Why are you so interested?” Ignis stared at him in genuine confusion. 

“Maybe I had a friend named Stupeo.” 

“Youʼre not even sure of your friendʼs name?” 

“Look, it was a long time ago, okay?” Gladio countered. “Iʼm not the only one who forgot something here, Scientia.” 

Ignis chuckled breathily again, grinning slightly to the bluish, purplish skies. “Fair, thatʼs fair.” He paused briefly. “Hm, youʼre certain youʼve never been to Lestallum before?”

“Nope.” 

“I see.” Ignis nodded. “I thought you looked familiar. But then your scars are throwing me off.” He drew a line in the air down his cheek and across his forehead. 

“Oh.” So Gladio covered his left side and the part over his brows, nudging Ignis with his knee to look at him. “So you remember this?” 

Ignis snorted at the ridiculousness of it, breaking out in a chesty laughter as he straightened up. “Ah, yes. That juggles my memory. Maybe Stupeo was _my_ old friend and he looked exactly like that.” 

“Right?” Gladio grinned, proud of the joke he made. “Maybe thatʼs my real name. Stupeolus Amicitia.” 

“I see,” Ignis said, still beaming in amusement. “Itʼs nice to finally meet you, then, Stupeolus.”


	4. skulls

Two days later, he and Noctis had settled on a rhythm. 

At 4 in the morning, Gladio would start to wake him up to give him an hour to hem and haw before he officially got up at 5. The early hours had been a point of contention between the two of them for the longest time and this was their compromise. 

They would jog around Lestallum, then, taking in the waking dawn and use the empty space in front of the glowing power plant to do some cardio exercises. After a break and some breakfast, they would find one of the many obscure corners Gladio had scoped out to work on Noctis’ flow and form. They would stop for lunch and stay in the hotel for the next two hours, watching videos and going through some mental preparations for the upcoming match. 

And then, it was a free day for the both of them. Mid-afternoon to evening was where they did all their touristy stuff, just so the prince could end the day on a good note and not have to dread the next one that came. It was a kind of exacting formula that took them months to get down to a T. 

That day was a little different, though. After lunch, the prince wanted to go to the market and spent the whole afternoon soaking up the sights and the sounds of the townʼs business district. By evening, that was when they pulled up the videos and went through with their mental session. 

Which meant that before night even fell, the prince was exhausted and had tucked himself permanently in bed. 

One by one, as quietly as he could, Gladio switched off the TV, closed his laptop, turned off the lights, sorted out his clothes for laundry. 

Then pulled the door shut behind him after locking it from the inside. So at 9-oʼclock, at a time when they would normally _just_ be arriving back at the hotel, the room had become eerily quiet. 

And the night was still young. 

Gladio didnʼt want to turn in yet. Coming here, he was ready to spend every second of every minute of every hour with the prince but with this sudden free time in his hands, he thought he wanted to at least go out for a drink. 

Or better yet… 

Well, the night wouldnʼt stay young for long so he hastened to his bedroom to change his shirt, wash his face and touch up his body spray. 

Then he left a sticky note for Noctis on his door before he stepped out of the hotel room with a sleek leather jacket he probably wouldnʼt wear but could use for props. Because. 

He headed out into the night, smiling and waving at the bowing concierge, taking a shortcut towards the main road where he waited for a Coernix tanker to pass. And then down onto the lookout glowing in fiery gold lamps, where the town was still very much alive despite the empty stalls and the clean tables. Everyone wanted to see the Disc of Cauthess at night, and the vastness of the sky and how many constellations they could make out from it. 

Gladio wanted to see someone else. Particularly that guy behind his empty grill pressing his hands to his back as he arched sharply to stretch it. 

He allowed himself to smile upon sight of him, clear his throat, sling his jacket over one shoulder because supposedly that was an easy way to look cool. 

While Ignis was digging around behind his stall, Gladio took his place at the front and let out a long hum while he scanned the menu on the right side of the frame. “Can I get uhh…” 

“Iʼm sorry but weʼre closed for the day,” Ignis announced, coming up to face him. That weary look brightened up in an instant. “Gladio!” 

Gladio waved to him. “Good work today.” 

Ignis thanked him, then, going back to his task. “I donʼt see Noct with you.” By now, after two visits to his shop, he finally got used to the princeʼs name. 

“Called it a day,” Gladio explained with a one-shoulder shrug. A slight breeze blew from the east, cooling a little of the sweat on his skin. “So now I got all this free time I dunno what to do with.” 

“Good for you,” Ignis chuckled. 

“You, though?” Even when Ignis wasnʼt looking, Gladio made an obvious show of leaning left then right. “I donʼt see Prompto with you.” 

Ignis rose briefly to point to the left side menu. “Working.” Particularly, that one that listed services and length of time instead of the usual food and drinks. “Theyʼre a young band looking to release their first album so they need a professional cover. They even gave us a code where we can find their first single.” 

“Hey, more power to them.” 

“And you?” Ignis finally came up, then, bracing his hands on the brick edge of his grill, where it would be safe. “What can I do for you?” After a long dayʼs work, even his styling pomade must have given up from the heat, if that errant lock swooping down to his scarred eyebrow was any indication. 

Gladio had to consciously mind himself because he couldnʼt stop looking at it. Instead, he redirected himself to the right-side menu again and squinted his eyes in thought. “Mm, I want…” 

Ignis scoffed; he must have rolled his eyes, too, he thought. “Fine, but weʼre out of—” 

“I wanna buy you a drink,” Gladio finished, grinning at the half-surprised look on Ignisʼ face. That was a trick, of course, he wouldnʼt dare be that asshole. His sister would murder him for it, anyhow. 

It took a moment before Ignis snorted and graced him with a short laugh. “Good answer,” he approved. “Iʼll just lock up.” 

Between the two of them, they managed to do it in ten minutes, though most of it was Gladio asking him where he should put this and that, if he should do it this way or that. 

“So the shots part of your business is Promptoʼs photography.” 

“Itʼs a play on words,” Ignis explained as they climbed up the sloping steps of a narrow side street hidden between two buildings. A faint jazz music could be heard playing a few steps onwards, and the subtlest breeze tunneled down past them. “We thought the phrase _hot shots_ could refer to both sides of the business.” 

“You guys really put some thought in this, didnʼt ya?” Gladio smiled, cheeks high. 

“It was mostly Prompto,” Ignis admitted, stopping on his tracks when Gladio suddenly bent over to pick up a lost discount card from one of the shops around there. He refused it when it was offered to him. “Until he came around, it was just _Stupeoʼs_.” 

“I see,” Gladio noted, slipping the card in this back pocket. He whipped towards Ignis at the same beat he chastised him with a warning finger. “So whoʼs—” 

“None of that or I _will_ put you in tomorrowʼs special!” 

“Okay, okay,” he laughed at the soft threat, though the man glared at his stubbornness, even with his hands raised. “I was just teasing!” 

“All in its proper place, Gladiolus,” Ignis tutted. 

“Ooh, pulling the full name on me.” 

“You better be warned,” so Ignis cautioned him with a haughty, teasing smile as they came up to a bright door, its frosted top obscuring the happy goings-on within. From where they stood, the lively music was practically bursting from the seams. Gladio could feel the excitement up his gooseflesh. “Well, here we are,” he announced with a glance at the lighted signage next to it. “First roundʼs free, second roundʼs on you.” 

It took them maybe two more rounds before Ignis finally relented and bought one for Gladio. By then, theyʼd already enjoyed several orders of beer, glasses of cocktail and even a near-empty bottle of wine which the bartender had relinquished just so he could get rid of it. 

The result was a happy pair stumbling out through the door, bowing in apology to a group of youngsters they had bumped into in their pleasantly buzzed state. 

“So let me get this,” Gladio said at the end of a breathless string of laughter while he and Ignis sorted out their feet and their balance. The night was much cooler by then, with thanks to the late hour. “So Prompto came from Niflheim and until he changed his name, his real name was definitely not Besithia.” 

“Correct,” Ignis hiccuped, fist coming up to his lips. 

“Like that government-sanctioned kook Besithia.” 

“Correct again.” Ignis dipped his head forward. 

“And as soon as he turned 18, he booked a one-way ticket to Lucis, hitchhiked his way to Lestallum and ended up half-dead in front of your stall. So you fed him and watered him,” that made Ignis laugh out loud, “and heʼs sworn loyalty to you ever since.” 

“Even if I hadnʼt taken pity on him, I would have welcomed the help,” Ignis shared apropos of nothing, both of them climbing another upwards slope, this time veering further right. The lights were brighter, yellower here, as if theyʼd just been recently changed. “And his photography is a good boost to our income.” 

“Maybe I should hire him for the festival match,” Gladio thought out loud, glancing around the shuttered businesses and sleepy bars they passed, all of them small and narrow. “By the way, where are we?” 

Ignis looked around them, literally, even spinning around his feet until he overbalanced and he caught himself with a hand on Gladioʼs biceps. Gladio reached for him too late. “Hm. I donʼt know.” And that brought them keeling over in loud, sniveling cheer again. 

“Oh, I know!” he amended himself soon enough, just as he took Gladioʼs hand and led him forward. That contact sent a tingle of electricity straight to his heart. “Let me show you something. Not all tourists know about this. Itʼs quite a weird spot to take you but to my defense, I am not a licensed guide.” 

“That supposed to excite me or scare me?” Whatever the answer was, Gladio was grinning as he followed eagerly. 

They came up to a dead end littered with posters where Ignis took them left and then right where they started to descend to a thicker road. Across it, they entered a quiet neighborhood and took the left street tucked in-between houses and mom-and-pop shops. 

This brought them in front of a tall chapel though it was big enough only for six pews, split in threes. The glass door was barred from the inside and out. 

And the entire outer wall was filled with rows of skulls, cheek to cheek with each other, using the same gray concrete. 

“ _Whoah,_ ” Gladio swooned, gazing up and down the unsettling architecture. “This is for people?”

“They call it the Chapel of the Dark Messenger,” Ignis explained, nudging his glasses back “One who supposedly goes by the name Diabolos, though there is only very little text to be found about him and itʼs all questionable websites. This must have been around for about 6 years already.” 

“A cult?” Gladio peered inside, trying to make out anything through the thick shadows of the walls. There was an altar in the middle, but that was all he could find. “Must be homey if theyʼre this tight.” 

“Or an art installation, Iʼm not quite sure.” Ignis crossed his arms as he went on with his explanation. “You know how it is with Lestallum and the arts. But some years ago, there was a man who declared himself an Oracle of this sect and decided to build this place of worship himself. Later on, he was revealed to be an artist who said that this chapel was a parody and a protest against the idea of established religions…but he had neither confirmed nor denied it yet.” 

“Sounds like a swell kinda guy,” Gladio joked, picking up the skull on its little tray next to the door, attached to the wall with several wires. For the lighting, he thought—

He gave out a squawk of surprise when a lizard flew out from under it, jumping back with his arm out to the startled Ignis. Something snapped and cracked in his hand. 

_Oh shit,_ he choked, staring at the cheap skull with a fresh faultline along its face, pulled free from its wiring. Ignis jumped upon noticing the damage, matching Gladioʼs saucer-sized eyes. 

He nearly dropped it when he smacked the broken skull back onto its pedestal, grabbed Ignisʼ hand and bolted for it, heart thundering madly. In the middle of their escape, Ignis pulled him suddenly and led them down a dark stairwell that would bring them to a wider fork. 

When he jumped and hollered in surprise, Gladio shoved him to the wall, acting on instinct, and smashed his boot up the dark _thing_ scuttling around their feet. It bounced off his hard toes, squeaking where it hit the concrete wall. 

Gladio shuddered to his knees, face twisting as if he tasted something spoiled. “Fuck, that was a fat rat!” A delayed realization. Of course, what else could it be? 

And then Ignis cracked up after a second of stone-cold silence, followed by Gladio after his disgust was replaced by utter amusement—first the stupid skull, now the flying rat. What a night! And it all started with a drink! 

Jacket slung over his forearm, he brought himself to Ignis and caught the man by his elbows before he tripped and fell in his ditzy state. “Hey,” he called him, laughing still. “You okay?” 

Ignis seemed breathless but brimming with good spirits when he nodded. “Yes.” His hands landed on the swell of Gladioʼs pecs. 

Climbed over his broad shoulders and down onto the hills of his inked biceps. “I…” he said but it was just a sound he made while he lost himself in the map of Gladioʼs muscles, tracing them up and down with his fingers and his rough palms. A secret thrill soared up to Gladioʼs chest, effectively sobering him up when he finally caught up with what was happening with blazing awareness. “I…” Ignis was gazing intently at his dark lines, the cut of his arms. His touch was rough and feverish and addicting. 

And he was blushing, green eyes shining even where the light was dim…

Gladio had to swallow down a meteor when he felt a particular tightness between his legs. Not something unwanted but definitely unplanned! But could it be that Ignis could be…attracted to men? Men like… _him_? 

“Oh my,” Ignis gasped, bringing his adventurous hands back to his pecs, sending a wave of heat and nausea straight into Gladioʼs liquid insides. “Iʼm afraid I may be…slightly drunker than I thought…” 

“Could be dangerous,” Gladio mumbled. Those eyes of spring rose up to meet him, looking wide with discovery. He struggled to breathe, pulled into them as though they were like whirlpools. “Probably time to get you home, you think?” 

“Yes,” Ignis whispered, then moved his head up and down, like a man relearning his motor skills. Though he never broke off contact. “I think…I think, perhaps, that may not be a bad idea. I, if you donʼt mind, Gladio…c, could you—” 

“Yeah.” Gladio nodded. “Sure.” He stepped beside him, then, and their hands found each other as he laid his other one on his lower back. As if a guy like him who ran all that way still needed help walking but…otherwise, it seemed wrong not to be touching…maybe he was still tipsy, after all. “Just tell me which way.” 

Ignis pointed ahead of them. “Left there.”


	5. glasses

He couldnʼt stop thinking about last night—the heat of his touch, its trembling energy as it moved with curiosity and unabashed awe. Those green eyes which seemed brighter, more vivid in his flustered state. That slightly disheveled look of his after theyʼd escaped all sorts of imagined and ridiculous horrors. 

More often than heʼd cared to admit, Gladio pondered the shape between his legs but he could never be brave enough to coax it fully into life. This was silly, he thought. A crush was warranted, even a deeper admiration for the handsome man with spectacular knife and listening skills. 

But desire? Just because his eyes wore a different sparkle when he blushed like one of his tomatoes? Just because he touched him in his half-inebriated state? 

For whatever it was worth, Gladio at least fell asleep without dreaming of the taste of his tongue, the rising heat in his belly. But when he woke up that early morning, he knew he wanted to see him again. 

The sun had reclaimed its post in the skies the next time Gladio left the hotel. Wisely, he had suggested to Noctis one of those breakfast wraps—with hash, scrambled yolky egg and potatoes—they saw in the menu of a food stall in the lookout. 

That meant he had just given himself an excuse to go wandering down the other side, with a mood as bright as the clear skies, the friendly greetings of the locals jogging along the wide view of the natural world. 

Gladio found his way to the storefront and knocked on its glass. Ignis was rooting around his kiosk again. 

When he came up, Gladio realized he was not having a good morning. The roundness of his eyes made it obvious he was in the middle of something, and there was something strange about his face, something…new and off. 

“Uh,” he stammered, “bad morning?” 

“No, not at all,” Ignis answered quickly, though he scanned his grill and his serving station on the side with a frown. “At least I hope not.” Then after the briefest pause, he asked Gladio: “Have you seen my glasses?” Oh. 

Oh now that he realized it, he _was_ missing his glasses! That was the strange thing on his face. Gladio shook his head innocently. “Nope. I just got here. Do you remember putting it on this morning?” He started towards the entrance of his food stall, facing the service one. 

“I did, I had it on in the market but now I canʼt find it,” Ignis tutted and sighed, crouching behind his storefront again. There was a singular cabinet just under it and the grill, and then beneath the serving station were two stout refrigerators side by side each other. 

On a toddler stool, he searched around his cabinet. “I swore I just left it here. I always leave it here if I have to take it off so that the cat doesnʼt find it…” 

“Did you see the cat this morning?” Gladio brought himself to his knees and his cheek to the concrete to look under. Nothing, not even a stray leaf or candy wrapping. 

“Iʼm certain I didnʼt.” 

“Where else did you go after the market?” Gladio got up and returned to the side where he could watch the search. Maybe his taller perspective could find something in Ignisʼ blindside, he thought. 

“Straight to here,” Ignis sighed as he sat back, looking mildly upset at the mystery. Gladio could sympathize, he was often that way when he couldnʼt find his hair tie. “How frustrating, how could I have misplaced that?” 

Gladio clapped him on his shoulder, then pointed to the fridges. “Not in there?” 

Ignis considered them with a frown. “Why would I—” He touched his nose bridge. 

Gladio laughed brightly when Ignis growled at his habit and hid his face behind his fists. How adorable. This poor guy. 

“Hey!” He reached to tap his shoulder, bending lower. “Cʼmon, I wonʼt tell Noct and Prompto. At least itʼs just me…” If he hadnʼt recognized his favorite hot sauce brand, he wouldnʼt have seen it. “Hey, I found it!” 

“Where?” Ignis snapped in attention, gazing down at the left side of his lowest shelf just as Gladio came to his knee and aimed for it. “Ahh, yes!” he exclaimed in triumph, reaching for his errant glasses lying on its back. “I had to inspect my coffee stocks so I moved it—” 

The search ended with a solid _smack_ that smelled of mint and flowers for some reason. Both of them yelped at once at the contact. Gladio rubbed the part on his forehead, bracing his weight with the heel of his palm on the ground. 

“Yeah,” he laughed with Ignisʼ shier chorus. He put down his hand. “I was gonna show ya…” His breath stopped. So close… 

They were suddenly so close to each other, barely an inch between the tips of their noses, practically breath to breath. Gladioʼs world was filled with green, the moles on Ignisʼ face drawing constellations over his emerald skies. And he gazed at them from the soft bow of his lips… 

If he could just slip closer, then…he wondered if… 

“U, umm—” Ignis cleared his throat, turning away to adjust his non-existent glasses. Then he stared at his empty hand as if in shock. Any longer and things were about to get awkward. 

With his own imitated noise, Gladio picked himself up and dusted his hands on his jeans, giving Ignis some space to put on his glasses for real this time and sort himself. “Sorry,” he muttered before long. 

“Please, it isnʼt…” Ignis trailed off when they met again. That pervasive summer heat crept up to Gladioʼs ears and the back of his neck. 

Ignis laughed suddenly, cheeks pink. “Look at us,” he said. “Two adults acting like a pair of high school boys…” Yeah, that was funny. But… 

Gladio shrugged. “Canʼt say it ainʼt my first time…” Right after high school, he went straight to the princeʼs service. Ignis seemed to react in a mixture of surprise and…delight? 

He rubbed his nape, distracting himself with the grill… 

Right, the food. 

“I…uh…” Gladio jutted his thumb behind him. The sun was higher now, the skies bluer and the heat… 

Or maybe that was just his own heat. “I gotta go pick up Noctʼs breakfast.” 

“Ah, of course.” Ignis tipped his head in full understanding. “Long day?” 

“Could be.” 

Ignis nodded… “Then, perhaps…later, then?” _Later._ He wanted to see him again later. “Th, that is…” He tossed his hand to his kitchen. “If…you are keen to drop by, of course. Y,” he brought his hand to Gladioʼs direction, “you and Noct, that is.” 

“Yeah!” Gladioʼs voice might have cracked in his excitement. He cleared his throat, laughed a little. “Sure, totally. Weʼll drop by.” He wanted to see him again, too. 

“Great, then.” Ignis smiled. “So…” 

“Yeah,” Gladio said again, stepping backwards. “Later.” 

They spent a few more awkward goodbyes before they could finally let go of each other, and Gladio could hurry to the cheerful hawker who waved to him with a plastic bag loaded with his orders. He was going to see Ignis again later. Gods… 

Was this real?


	6. suspense

They decided to go grab dinner together—all four of them. So while Ignis took care of the last few customers, Prompto would check out their options and make a reservation. It was a sound plan. 

But then, Noctis wanted to come with. Gladio never had problems with the prince asserting himself, in fact it was a good sign. But it wasnʼt like all three of them could just leave Ignis alone, and even Gladio could see that this was a good opportunity for them to…well, talk. About them. Or the concept of them. It was just that…

Well, this was going to be the first time Noctis was going somewhere unfamiliar without his bodyguard. Prompto reassured him, of course, that Noctis was going to be safe with him and that he knew some shortcuts if they needed to get away. Even the prince seemed satisfied with this fail-safe, eager to see more of the place that was vastly different from Insomnia. 

So he let them go, reasoning to himself that there was a time to protect the prince and a time to let him test the waters on his own two feet. This would be the latter. In the meantime, he had other waters to test himself… 

He came back to Ignisʼ side with two cones of ice cream, one coffee, another vanilla. Ignis thanked him as he received the former, then toasted with Gladio while he took his place by the bench. “So how are you liking the place?” 

“Itʼs…” Gladio nodded, compelled to gaze out to the tangerine skies, tinged pink the higher up his eyes went. A faint breeze blew from the crevice, hardly enough to soothe him from the heat but it was better than nothing. “Great. I love it. Noct and I love it.” 

“Worried about the prince?” Ignis had a knowing smirk on his face when he pointed it out. 

So Gladio scratched his half-pony, shamed into silence. He ate his ice cream because at least that wonʼt tease him. 

Ignis snickered in breaths, bumping their arms together. “Heʼll be fine. Prompto is a trustworthy fellow.” 

“Hey, I wasnʼt saying he was the dubious sorts,” Gladio sputtered, trying to keep his face cool and suave. Difficult, though, while he was watching Ignis nibble at his ice cream like a kid. He really was that cute. “Iʼm just—” 

“I know,” Ignis interrupted him before he could spill his excuses. “I understand, Gladio.” That name seemed to echo in his ears. Funny, this wasnʼt the first time Ignis had ever used his name. 

Gladio hazarded a smile, then cleared his throat and scratched his sideburn. Well, now what? “Well…s, so um…should…we should…should we?” 

“What?” Ignis laughed at his stunted ideas, eyes disappearing behind his smile. 

“Talk,” Gladio finally managed to spit out, trying to look as disaffected as he could, the way an adult talking about such highschool notions should be. Never mind the fact that his ribs might crack from the pounding of his heart any minute now. “About us. I mean.” 

“Us,” Ignis repeated, then nodded, though it looked like he was bopping to one of Promptoʼs inaudible beats as he considered the topic. “I suppose thatʼs fair.” 

“ _Fair?_ ” Gladio stared closely at him, at that smile barely concealed behind his ice cream. “Look, Iʼm just trying to be an adult about this thing thatʼs going on between us.” 

“ _What_ thing?” Ignis started to cackle. He was teasing. 

He was not helping Gladioʼs nerves. “This thing!” He was not helping himself either. 

“ _What_ thing again?” Why this man—

“The thing where you couldnʼt keep your hands off me when you were drunk.” Nailed it. Ignis choked on his ice cream, suddenly red to the ears. Ha. 

Gladio took a few bites on his own dessert as if to taste victory. Then ate faster. Damn, it was melting. 

Ignis cleared his throat, tilting his chin up to the slight wind, recovering himself. “Well, what about the thing where you couldnʼt stop staring at my face this morning?” Ah, he was retaliating. 

“Huh,” Gladio started to laugh, smiling slightly. “You mean the part where I wanted to kiss you?” Ignis may be tricksy but he was bold. The man choked on his ice cream and turned away as he started to cough. “Yeah,” he went on, attacking his enemy while his guard was down. “Those things.” 

Ignis pulled himself up again, though he preferred to gaze out to the setting sun than the man who proclaimed his feelings to him. “I see,” he said. They were getting somewhere…right? 

Gladio tried to smile at that mediocre response if his racing heart and the rising heat would just let him. When Ignis persisted with his silence, he started again, “W, well…so what I wanted to say was that—” 

“I like you.” 

Talk about being slammed in the face with a herd of chocobos. Did he hear right?! For a second there, he must have stared at the man, looking winded and stupid, while the same man bit into his cone as if he hadnʼt confessed anything important. “Y, you mean—” 

“I mean thatʼs what you were going to tell me,” Ignis corrected him on cue. And then laughed at him when Gladio growled and nearly pitched his ice cream past the safety barrier of the cliff. 

“Anyone tell you how frustrating you are?” Gladio had to snap, feeling queasy with embarrassment. 

“You look so nervous, I was just trying to lighten you up,” Ignis countered, laughing still. 

“Well, would you take me seriously!” 

“Oh, you think Iʼm not taking you seriously?” Ignis looked bemused despite Gladioʼs warring nerves. “You think I didnʼt stay up late last night, thinking of you? Or that I didnʼt count the hours until I would see you again today?” He… “Because…I was hoping I could speak with you, as well.” He… 

He? 

A part of Gladio wondered how he must look like a consummate idiot, gaping like a new breed of fish at the man who seemed to have easily come to terms with this development. Wait, how could he be so calm about this?! 

“I like you, too,” Ignis finally admitted. Though with how loudly his heart was beating, Gladio couldnʼt say he heard right— “Which is to say…I think I am attracted to you enough to think that I like you.” 

“That…that kinda means the same thing, Ignis.” 

“Does it?” Ignis chuckled, turning his gaze to the burning skies, the slipping sun. “I wouldnʼt know. This is the first time Iʼve felt this way with someone after a long time.” 

“Oh yeah?” Gladio straightened up…for whatever reason. That…this was good news for him, right? “Cool, then. We get to be first-timers on this.” No, that was not the coolest thing to say for a bearded male adult who wore leather jackets and a massive tattoo and his hair long. 

But it made Ignis laugh—that bright, tinkling song that Gladio was starting to get obsessed with. “Do we?” He was teasing him again. This idiot. This beautiful man. 

“We could,” Gladio sputtered, struck dumb by his delighted profile, the veil of golden light on his…perfectly imperfect nose. With the slight bump in the middle that made him look so endearing. “I, if you want…?” Again, the drum beats in his ears. Like stupid sound effects from a movie. 

“Hm,” Ignis said, lips coming up to a thin smile as he considered his invitation. At long last, he dipped his head once. “Yes. I think Iʼd like that.”


	7. festival

Somehow, Lestallum managed to be even brighter, and wilder and hotter as soon as the festive music blasted out into the air. 

Bunting flags, in red, green, blue and yellow, streamed across the bright skies, as if the place needed more help to look alive. A lot of the food stalls, even the ones in the market, had set up shop along the main thoroughfare, or wherever the banners for the Cleigne Summer Festival hung. They stood shoulder to shoulder with other shops that sold a myriad of other items like souvenirs, jewelry, hats, even flowers. 

How embarrassing that this was exactly where the guy he was courting had found him. “If youʼre thinking of getting me roses, I would highly suggest against it.” Even more embarrassing was the fact that he was, actually, thinking of getting him exactly those flowers. 

Gladio might have jumped when he turned and brought his hand instinctively to his half-pony, greeted by the man who smiled at him knowingly. 

“Touché,” Ignis said. 

“Hey,” Gladio replied one second too slow. Then with a little shrug, he added, “Cʼmon, how was I supposed to know that you didnʼt like flowers?” 

“It isnʼt that I donʼt,” Ignis began his explanation by shifting his glasses higher, which was characteristic of him. “But the day is long and quite hot.” He pointed to the bucket of flush red roses Gladio had been considering. “Those poor things will die out long before we make it to the strip.” Well, he was the local. He would know… 

“Yeah?” Gladio tried to nurse his disappointment which shouldnʼt have been there in the first place if he just didnʼt excite himself with the prospect of flowers. So sue him if this was his first shot at romance. 

With a little tip of his head to the florist, safe under her tent with her mini electric fans, he moved away from her shop and started up the flight of stairs leading to the power plant which hosted its own set of kiosks. “So I guess someone else gave you flowers before, huh?” 

“Hm?” Ignis glanced at him, matching his feet and pace. “Ah yes, indeed,” he said after a pause. “A young gentleman, very sweet.” A _young_ gentleman?! _Very_ sweet? 

What the hell, _Gladio_ could be a young gentleman, too!! Though fine, he wasnʼt in his 20s anymore, and he and Ignis were the same age _but_ he _could_ be very sweet! If he just let him!! 

He must have somehow communicated all those indignant thoughts because Ignis was suddenly bursting in laughter, swinging his shoulders back while he covered his wide smile with a hand. He would have looked cute if he wasnʼt cracking up at Gladioʼs expense. 

“What?” Gladio scowled like a 16-year old, beet red. 

“I should have brought Prompto with me!” Ignis cried out, full of cheer. With a smile wide enough to consume both his eyes, he pointed at Gladio. “You should have seen the look on your face.” 

“What!” 

“He was not a suitor,” Ignis finally revealed, beaming like the summer. “He was a bookseller during Book Day last year. Iʼd purchased a cookbook and it was a part of the promo.” Oh. 

Oh, okay. Gladio could understand that, they had Book Day in the Crown City, too. And he normally ended up with half a dozen roses from all the bookstores he stopped by which he always gave his sister. 

Ignis was still giggling and smiling when he sighed and shook his head. “My poor suitor is a jealous man,” he thought out loud, waving to someone in front of them. When Gladio turned, it was the prince at the top of the stairwell, donned in his cap and a white shirt and his pair of gloves. With several plastic bags slung around his forearm, of course. “I should be so lucky.” Gladio heard his heart swell. 

“Whereʼs Prompto!” Noctis called out to them. Gladio thought he must be having a really good time if he would be shouting like that, even going ahead without his bodyguard. Days ago, he couldnʼt even check them in without his watchful eye. 

“Roving,” Ignis answered back in much the same way. Then he made to take pictures with his fingers to demonstrate further. 

Noctis raised a thumb, then poked his nose into the closest tent. Like the kid he should have been if he hadnʼt lost his mother in that unfortunate accident. 

Gladio had to grin. The king would be ecstatic if he ever learned about this. “Yeah, you bet you should be,” was his belated response to Ignis. Then he glanced down briefly to find his hand so he could take it. 

Ignis seemed to glow like the sun when he faced him in his giddy surprise. 

Gladio grinned at that. “Join us in our tent later.” 

“I should. My business partner will be your official photographer, after all.” Ignis turned them around, switching their hands so that they were still holding each other. Down in the parking area, evacuated of their cars, the crowd was at their thickest. And with their pressed bodies, they formed a long ring where music played and people danced. “Are you two ready, then?” 

“For the match?” A thought which made Gladio draw a deep breath to blow, as if he was the one to be subjected to that same joyous crowd later. “As ready as we could be.” He turned to Ignis, then. “Kiss me good luck?”

Ignis cocked him another artful brow. “I should be kissing Noct, not you.” 

Gladio clicked his tongue and tugged him back towards the plant. “Never mind, then.” So maybe he _was_ a jealous suitor. Ignis laughed again. 

Then to soothe his raging insecurities, he pressed a kiss on his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> book day is based off of dia del libro. also, we are officially a week in and i am already whining at myself XDDD thanks for sticking around so far!! o///


	8. coeurl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have never fenced my whole life yet so

At the refereeʼs signal, the match started again. Both fencers darted forward but with his reach and his length, the man in white easily dominated the strip, forcing the black one back into his corner. At the last moment, the black fighter dove forward, limbs all stretched out trying to reach his opponent by his sword tip only to be thwacked with the flimsy blade on his padded shoulder. The lights on his side of the strip flashed red with the buzzer. 

The green side gave a brief cheer and a round of applause. The points were 13-15 at the end of the second round, in favor of the other camp. Earlier, it was 14-9.

Gladio hung his head down, giving himself two seconds to sort his thoughts before he approached the line of their tent between absolute shadow and blazing daylight. The black fencer released his helmetʼs locks and pulled it from his head. Here they go. 

“Heʼs too fast,” he gasped, practically falling onto the plastic seat in a sweaty puddle. “Gods, it feels like I have to be on the Infernianʼs fire just to catch up with him!” 

“But youʼre just two points away, Noct!” Prompto moved swiftly to his side to capture the moment, full of faith in his new friend as Ignis came over with a towel he kept in a bucket of ice water. Noctis wiped his face down with this then left it on his head while he caught his breath. “That canʼt be so hard, can it?” 

Gladio considered the prince, hands gripping his elbows. It was true what he said, though. For the last half hour or so, he couldnʼt sit or stand still while the prince was defending his first victory. It was a circus of disappointment and elation, trading places like a roller coaster. “I think you should go on full offensive,” he decided after a long pause. 

“What?” Noctis sat up suddenly, cold water dripping down his face. Promptoʼs camera clicked. “Gladio, donʼt you see how long he is?!” He flung his hand out to the other side. 

“Pretty sure Iʼm longer and bigger than him, but youʼve beaten me several times and it ainʼt sheer dumb luck,” Gladio countered. He moved to his front, folding his knees to make himself smaller to the round-eyed prince. “Heʼs using his arm length to intimidate, _and_ heʼs fast. So thatʼs why you keep scrambling back for space and when you near the end of it, you push back and he gets ya.” He put his hand to his head. “‘cause youʼre frazzled. That bastardʼs playing with ya.” 

“If I go on full offensive, heʼs going to win the Cup in 30 seconds,” Noctis huffed, anxiety riding heavily with weariness over his brows. “Besides, you said full offense doesnʼt suit me, you said I should stick to sneak attacks.” When Gladio looked into those deep blue eyes, though, he could tell that the prince wasnʼt ready to give up just so. If anything, the one thing that made training him easier, for all his whining and impatience, was that he had a grade-a pride in him. Even when he was young, he was never the type to go down without a legendary fight. 

Now Gladio would just have to keep stoking _that_ fire in him. And hope it was hot enough to take them through the last second. “I know what I said,” he assured him, laying a heavy hand on his warm jacket. Ignis arrived with an ice-cold bottle of ionized sports drink which Noctis guzzled down, as if he forgot he had to drink. “And I know what you can do.” 

A word of confidence that caused the young man to frown at his coach. 

So Prompto piped in with his own encouragement, “Cʼmon, Noct, you can do it!” And slapped him on his shoulder. “This is just the part where the hero gets beaten down so he can get back up!” 

“If I may add,” Ignis slipped in smoothly after, handing Noctis a dry towel, “that man seems to be favoring his right foot. He relaxes on it when heʼs pressing his advantage but drops it heavily when Noct moves forward.” 

“So if he keeps pushing back…” Gladio trailed off. 

He left the rest of the sentence for Noctis to write. After a few quiet heartbeats (except for Promptoʼs astute photography skills), he handed the towels and the empty bottle to his bodyguard and rose to his feet, shooting the helmet onto his head and locking it himself. 

He came back out to the afternoon light, waving to his supporters, a living shadow in the midst of the sun. Prompto cheered the loudest behind him. 

“You sure of what you said?” Gladio mumbled to Ignis after he passed the towels and bottle to an organizer. He took his place next to him, at the front of the tent, arms forever crossed. 

Ignis peeled his glasses to clean them on his shirt. “I am a man who can cut his meat and catch his knives with my eyes closed.” 

“Fine,” Gladio chuckled. The fencers took their positions. 

And for the last time, he breathed in deeply, sending a prayer to all the gods he could come up with. 

“Heʼll be fine,” Ignis reassured him, putting a hand on his shoulder, the warm touch of his skin on his sending a tingle of cool electricity through his arm. “Skills are naught without determination. And that seems to be his middle name.” 

“Actually, itʼs Lucis.” 

“Yes, I know, I used to be Insomnian, remember?” 

Gladio spared him a smile and a chuckle…or tried to with barely any success about it. “Just trying to lighten up.” 

“You are so tense, your jokes fall flat,” Ignis sighed, squeezing him where he touched him. “Have faith in him.” 

“I got no problems with him,” Gladio exhaled, turning his gaze to the match. “But I sure hope I trained him enough for this. This match means everything to him.” 

“Iʼm sure you did,” Ignis insisted. With the same hand on his shoulder, he turned his suitorʼs face to him so he could catch his smile. “If you wonʼt have faith in yourself, then allow me to be the bearer of it.” 

“The last round,” the referee announced, “of the Coeurl Division starts…now!” 

At once, his heart soared and plummeted. Both fencers started bouncing on the balls of their feet, then the white opponent surged forward, darting his saber in several points while Noctis hopped back until he had run out of room. So he jumped forward, close enough for the tip to touch his shoulder. 0-1. The white side cheered. 

But so did Gladio, in a quiet applause. “Heʼs getting it.”

“He is?” Prompto whirled at him, eyes wide but Gladio couldnʼt spare him a glance. 

He was focused on Noctis who was fixing his helmet and returning to his side of the strip, nodding. 

Gladio bunched up his fist, pressing it on his tensed lips. 

Both fighters took their positions again. This time, Noctis was the one who jumped forward first, driving his opponent to the defensive until he retaliated with a long jab.

Which Noctis dodged with a quick step to the right, putting him right where there was a gaping opening— 

Prompto was the first to howl when the green sign lit up on their side, then captured the moment too late thanks to his excitement. Ignis let out his own cry of support, “Thatʼs the way to do it, Noct!” 

Gladio allowed himself to pump a little fist but kept his optimism reserved. One point, the first step to revenge was good but they had 14 left to climb. 

And now the next round started, and more than ever, Noctis moved like electric, fitting of the fencing style he was competing with. With renewed vigor, he darted left then right, hopping back every so often as if to draw the enemy into his den before he attacked with a wild cut or a sharp strike. Again and again, the green light seemed to be flashing more at their side. 

“Thatʼs it, thatʼs the way a Coeurl fights!!” Ignis barked, hands meeting in eager applause as the prince celebrated another win with a pumping fist. Wish as Gladio might to join him, he couldnʼt even bring himself to breathe as the minutes counted down to 8, 11, 13.

And the points, they wavered, too. 4-3, 6-8, 9-9… 

At the final buzz, the whole strip burst with wild ringing cheer as Noctis fell to his knees, tore his helmet off and tucked his head between his hands and his lap . Prompto screamed the loudest, completely neglecting the job that he was paid to do. 

Gladio, in his disbelief, had to look at the score and the green light. 12-11, it said. 

“We won,” he sputtered, then turned to Ignis who shook him, cheeks high as he beamed wide. “We won? Noct won?!” 

“Yes!” Ignis laughed, eyes sparkling in their squinted state. “You won. Congratulations!” He drew him forward. 

“And the winner of this Cup,” Gladio heard the voice as he seized Ignis in a fierce embrace, spirit singing, fireworks exploding in his head, “by a unanimous decision…is the Black Prince, His Highness Noctis Lucis Caelum!” 

Gladio started to laugh, squeezing Ignis much more tightly. They had won, Noctis had won. 

That kiss from earlier must have been magical.


	9. agile

“Okay, ready when youʼre not! In 3…2—”

“AHHH, WAIT, IʼM NOT YET DRESSED—”

In a blur, Noctis started jabbing at Prompto with his hand flattened out to a fin. The poor blonde wailed, padded chest armor only half-worn while he scampered backwards, arms forming a crossed shield in front of him. Noctis burst out in laughter, crumpling to his knees. 

A certified bully if Gladio had ever seen one. “Noooct,” he sang to him in warning, drawing his wide smile to where he sat by the bench outside _The Leville_. He and Prompto occupied a cut-off strip mockup near the left wall. “Donʼt stress yourself out, you just went through an intense match!” 

“Iʼm winding down!” was the princeʼs excuse. 

“Like hell you are!” was his bodyguardʼs rebuttal. He wouldnʼt stop him, though—this was his day, his triumph, not just over the match but over all the traumas he conquered just to get to this point in his life. 

Heʼd never seen him this joyful before, this wild, this friendly. And if it would be a while yet for the next time, Gladio could at least look at the pictures that Prompto took to remind himself that Noctis _could_ be so happy. 

He flipped through them on the camera in his hands. There was Noctis crying on the ground, he and Noctis sharing a tearful embrace. He remembered this was when he was telling him that he did it, that he was proud of him. And then Noctis beaming with the golden cup catching the sunlight, the flags of Leide and the royal family slung over his shoulders. 

“Thatʼs a gorgeous shot.” 

“Right?” Gladio smiled at Ignis beside him who was draining his cup of milk tea, as if he was the one who had captured that winning photo. “I donʼt remember the last time he was this happy.” 

Prompto interrupted them when he screamed again. When they turned to the young men, the poor guy was hiding in a corner and Noctis was poking him on the back with his saber. 

Gladio and Ignis had to laugh, like two parents of two boys. “You need to skip to the left,” Ignis shouted in support of his business partner. “Then swing your saber rightwards to the back!” 

“Oh?” Gladio smirked at the man. “You know what youʼre talking about?” He expected a knowing look from him. 

But what he got was a look of surprise, as if a new Ignis had come to possess him briefly and now the old Ignis was back. “Umm…” He stammered, shifting his glasses… 

Was he blushing? 

Gladioʼs eyes and mouth fell open when it dawned on him. “You fence!” 

“Not professionally,” Ignis added quickly before Gladio got any ideas. “I um…” He slurped his milk tea again but there was nothing left in it but air and orange peels. He looked at it in surprise. “I used to practice with my uncle. He used to play it as a hobby,” he explained instead. 

“Thatʼs still cool, man!” Gladio laughed, excitement swelling in his chest. A man who could cook blind, who knew about quite a lot of things and now an erstwhile amateur fencer…what _couldnʼt_ this man do! “Do you fence Coeurl, too?” Ignis nodded shyly. “C, can I see?” He was so thoroughly in love now. 

Ignis briefly considered his empty cup, then rolling his eyes, he got up and barked for his partner practicing his form and strikes on the wall. “Might I have a match with the champion?”

“ _No_ , seriously?!” Even from the distance, Gladio could catch the sparkle in Noctisʼ smile. Prompto was shedding the chest armor faster than he put it on. “You fence?!”

“Thatʼs still up for debate,” Ignis said, coming up to his feet, hand out as Prompto ran to him with the training stuff. “Weʼll see how I fare against the Lucian champion.” 

Noctis swooned then laughed as Prompto helped him in the padded armor before he tripped his way to Gladio who handed him his camera. “Okay. Iʼll go easy on you!”

“Much obliged, Your Highness,” Ignis replied. “Then—en garde?” 

The moment he pulled up his passive arm slightly and folded his knees just so, though, Gladioʼs heart made a little skip and sat up straighter. Amateur or no, this man knew what he was doing! That was a perfect form he held! 

Prompto volunteered to referee them. At his signal and in a blink, Ignis was suddenly folded like a paper craft, his saber bending as it met Noctisʼ padded tummy. 

Gladio shouted out a curse when he jumped up to his feet. Even Noctis stared dumbly at the so-called amateur. 

And then he was laughing, stumbling back to applaud the first blood drawn. “You’re good!” 

“Please,” Ignis excused himself humbly. 

They started again. This time, Noctis gave a fight, and they came at each other with blinding strikes and killer jabs centered around the midsection. Gladio couldnʼt believe how fast his heart was racing, how agile Ignis turned out to be! 

They stole a few points between themselves here and there, each one celebrated by taunts and laughter. Both of them would be blushing before long, from the exercise and the enjoyment. 

Gladioʼs phone would be out before long, trained at Ignisʼ happy face, his slightly touched pompadour. At the right moment, exactly one breath before he launched his attack, he captured him with his camera.


	10. waterfall

“Hey, anyone been to Myrlwood Falls?” 

Gladio had posed the question right as the conversation came to another comfortable pause. It had been three nights since the first day of the summer festival and the revelry was finally winding down. Tomorrow, everyone would be busy pulling down banners, disassembling their stalls, returning to their regular days or nursing weekend hangovers. 

The four of them were taking advantage of whatever was left of the party. Discount skewers and currys, beer by the bucket, someoneʼs favorite podcast playing in some corner of the market. 

Thoughts of camping out in the falls. “Mmm, I think I have,” Prompto volunteered after a few awkward seconds of silence. “Is that the one by Meldacio?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah!” Even in his seat, Prompto somehow managed to bounce as he nodded with his shoulders, as if he was halfway dancing while he was adjusting his position. “Didnʼt like it.” 

“Oh.” Well, that was discouraging. 

“Place is full of bugs.” Prompto scratched his head, squinting an eye at the memory. “But! I went before Meldacio started to offer it. You know, back in the days where those virgin forest tours were all the rage. Why?” He leaned a little onto the wobbly square table between them. “You thinking of going?” Well, Gladio wouldnʼt be bringing it up if he wasnʼt. 

“Yeah,” Gladio revealed eventually with a little nod, then from his back pocket, he revealed that brochure he had been carrying the whole day—a selection of tours by Meldacio HQ, the champion of which was the Myrlwood Falls as it tumbled down a rock wall, into a natural lake. “Was just wondering if you guys wanna go.” He looked at all three of them. “Place looks great in the picture.” Hopefully, he wasnʼt betraying more than some casual interest with his face. 

“Oh yeah, it does,” Prompto echoed while Ignis unfolded the advertisement and read up on its content. “The falls deep inside the forest look _amazing_ but itʼs the going there thatʼll test ya.” 

“Will it be a guided tour?” Ignis asked, flipping the paper to its back. “This seems to be the first time Meldacio is promoting it. I suppose between the time you went and now, they must have spent all time preparing it for tourists.” That last sentence, he said to Prompto as he passed him the brochure. 

“Hmmm, I guess youʼre right,” Prompto mused, checking out the pictures for himself. 

“When are you thinking of going?” Ignis leaned back comfortably in his plastic chair, carrying one knee up his leg. He made a quick apology when he kicked on a stand upon doing so. 

Gladio tossed a little shrug, as sloppily as he could manage. “When _do_ you guys wanna go?” 

“Is it a haven?” 

“Yeah.” Gladio whirled at the prince, almost snapping his neck. He tried not to show it but now that they were talking about it, he was starting to get excited with the idea of some outdoors fun. “They also said itʼs a great fishing site and thereʼs a royal tomb deep inside it.” 

“Yeah?” Noctis replied, trying to look positive. Despite that, he could tell by his face, that he wasnʼt…sure he was keen with the idea. 

Gladio wasnʼt surprised. It took a lot from them just to get out of the comforts of the Crown City and he understood it would be quite stressful on his part if Gladio brought him out of Lestallum just when he was settling in. This was why he was so very careful about getting his hopes up. This was exactly the kind of sacrifice that came with his job description. 

“Ooh, theyʼre even offering packages on discount,” Prompto pointed out suddenly, laying the brochure on the table as he read. “Day tour, 4750 from 6000. Overnight 6500 from 7500. Guided tour 8000 from 8750. Minimum of 2pax to avail of these prices…” 

“We could go on a day tour,” Gladio piped up, looking at all of them again. “In and out before evening, back here by dinner.” That should be easier for them, right? 

“But donʼt _you_ wanna camp?” 

Noctis was frowning when Gladio turned to him. Well, he did, of course. He wouldnʼt be choosing that location if it werenʼt for the haven. But for the princeʼs sake, he only shrugged again. “Yeah, but, I can just go another time.” Whenever that next time was. 

“Thatʼs not fair, though,” Noctis sulked, crossing his arms. “You always say that but you never go.” Oh. Well… 

Gladio scratched his temple. He never thought heʼd say that here, right now. He made a little laugh before he started to respond—

“I think you should go,” Noctis cut him off. “Iʼll go on the day tour for the fishing but you should stay overnight.” 

“Noct—” 

“Cʼmon,” Noctis clicked his tongue, stomping lightly under the table. “Whenʼs the next time going to be? You had to pull out a lotta teeth just to bring me here. Donʼt mind the expenses, Iʼll pay for it, even if itʼs the full price.” 

“But what if it doesnʼt have to be the full price?” Ignis offered, looking at Gladio. “What if I come along and stay?” Gladio nearly jumped from his seat. 

“You will?!” He should have been playing it cool but just now, it was looking like he couldnʼt go and then he _could_ and…well, the prince was right. Even if his job entailed a lot of sacrifices…there were still things that _he_ wanted. And books could only take one so far. 

So when Ignis nodded, a little smile dancing on his face, Gladio couldnʼt help but stoke the flames of hope in his heart. “I made quite a few sales this festival.” He pulled his shoulders back to stretch. “And so did Prompto. I think we should be good until the next festivities.” 

“Sounds great!” Prompto cried all of a sudden, smiling toothily and all. “Besides, I managed to score a lot of bookings so I might as well take a quick vacation before I make some money, right?” he sang. “Maybe itʼll be easier this time!” 

“Youʼll be camping, too?” 

“Nah, Iʼll go with Noct.” Prompto jutted a thumb at his new friend and shared a grin with him. “I like taking pictures but I also love soft beds, yʼknow?” 

“And showers,” the prince tossed in. 

Prompto finger-gunned him. “You know it!” 

“Wait, you sure?” Gladio stuttered, leaning a little towards Noctis who looked at him all innocent and clueless. “Youʼre going back without me?” 

“Yeah.” Noctis nodded. “Promptoʼs gonna be with me, anyway. Besides, itʼs a guided tour, right?” He shrugged. “So when do you guys wanna go?” He looked at everyone in that table.


	11. water

Two days later, and they were off on their first road trip as friends. With Ignis on the wheel—a little request he made, being a man who missed the smooth purr of Insomnian motors—they took the princeʼs car up through Pallareth Pass, then down through a tunnel that brought them to Meldacioʼs HQ where the tour started. 

From there, they boarded a van that took them first to the Vesperpool for lunch (and some quick fishing for Noctis) (Gladio had to book Promptoʼs services again so they could have souvenirs of the princeʼs first excursion) and then finally to the Myrlwood, where a group of pros awaited them at the mouth of a camouflaged cavern. 

Through which a lush forest blossomed, like an ancient world that was allowed to nurture itself unhindered by the times. Heavy eaves shielded them from the afternoon sun, and the earth was as dark as the undergrowth was green. There was an instant wonder in their faces as they trekked the defined path, through camouflaged fences that kept the wild fauna at bay. 

And then down one path, between giant walls of folded layers of rocks, the gentle sound of water splashing and trickling. 

Welcoming them to yet another world—an oasis in the heart of the forest. White water tumbling down its rocky slide into a blue lake, a nice ground on which to pitch a tent and build a fire. And the skies clear and open above them. 

Perfect for stargazing later, Gladio thought, while he finished up the grill he and Ignis would use for their dinner. In fact the whole thing was more perfect than what the picture led him to believe, he thought. Everything was raw and natural, and the prince was having the time of his life, catching all the fish heʼd never seen before. When he got back in the hotel, he would have to sort through Promptoʼs photos and look them up online himself. 

_If he could stay awake long enough_ , Gladio thought with a secret chuckle while the prince reeled in another new fish, bursting with cheer. 

Before the sun set, they paid a visit to the royal tomb at the end of a wetland, down a separate path, where Noctis spent an inordinate amount of time trying to recall the queen who owned it (and getting teased by his friends for failing). 

After that, it was time for them to go. “Call me when youʼre back in the HQ, okay?” Gladio reminded him. 

“Yup,” Noctis replied to him. 

“And again when youʼre in the hotel.”

“Yup.” 

“Donʼt skip dinner and donʼt forget to brush your teeth before you go to bed.” 

“I know, I know!” Finally Noctis snapped and hissed at his endless advice, matching his mood with a glare. “Cʼmon, stop treating me like a kid, I can take care of myself!” 

“Okay,” Gladio conceded, dropping a heavy hand onto the princeʼs shoulder to shake him. “You be good, then.” Noctis sighed. 

And then they were alone. And the world was so quiet that Gladio realized—this was the first time he could truly be alone with Ignis. 

“Some dinner, perhaps?” Ignis offered after they waved them off, heading back to the tent. “Weʼve had quite a long day.” 

“Now?” Gladio followed him back to camp. Dusk was a mixture of orange and a subtle shade of gray, with a cool breeze that would have been misplaced in Lestallum. He gazed out to the plain skies, tossing his hand to it. “Still a bit too early, isnʼt it?” 

Ignis turned to him from the grill, one brow raised which he later redirected up above. “Well, what would you have us do, then?” He looked back to Gladio. 

He answered that question with a bright smile on his face as he pulled off his tank top. 

In their briefs and boxers, they went for a swim, a gentle exercise which soon turned to a wild sport as they wrestled each other and attacked with water bombs and childish pranks. Gladio had never heard Ignis laugh so loudly before, enough to fill the whole lake with his bold voice. Or seen him so lacking of care for his poise, his hair as he bounced in the lake, eyes shaped like crescents over his smile. 

Gladio felt like the luckiest man in the whole of the planet to have witnessed this side of Ignis. 

“You enjoyed yourself, didnʼt you?” 

Ignis started with an honest smile, and a quiet laughter for himself. In their underwear and a towel slung over their shoulders, they sat near the fire, enjoying the scent of the wood and the deep blue skies dusted with stars. “More than I thought I might,” he admitted. “Ten years in this region and yet it takes a tourist from Leide to bring me out here. Sometimes, it really is the locals who are the most ignorant.” 

“I donʼt mind takinʼ the credit for that.” Gladio grinned. He looked so different with his hair down, he thought. Younger, less serious… 

“I like that look on you,” he said to him all of a sudden. 

Surprising him—that smile snapped open to a little O, and those green eyes widened into the same shape. By the light of the campfire, it almost looked as if they had flames dancing in them, too. 

_Ignis_ , he suddenly remembered his name was. Gladio realized just then how apt it was. This man was all about fire, he thought. He worked with fire, lived in perpetual summer. 

And how warm he made him feel, as he drew closer to him, both of them captivated by their eyes. At the last second, Ignis closed his. 

Come the next, they were kissing, lips locked in a gentle embrace, both of them still uncertain of where this was going. But if there _was_ something that Gladio was certain of, it was that he wanted him here. Now. 

Like this—soft lips quivering ever so slightly, a nervous tongue testing this new frontier before Gladio guided him in with his own. He shifted closer to him, his hands capturing his shoulders, like a signal for Ignis to find his biceps. Before long, those same arms would be snaking around the back of his neck to trap him. 

So Gladio seized him where he sat, thicker arms pulling in his slender waist while he kissed him harder with his mouth, sucking at his lips, filling him with his tongue. Ignisʼ moan was a surprise he hadnʼt expected, and how it stirred him. Could he get more of that? 

Could he get _more_? 

They parted for air, their lips swollen and cheeks red. When they panted, Gladio thought they breathed in the same rhythm, hearts beating as one. He brought the back of his fingers to Ignisʼ cheek, and Ignisʼ eyes fluttered close, allowing his lips to be magnetized to the touch so he could kiss it. He was not alone in this. 

“Ignis,” Gladio stammered, breathing through his racing heart, “d, dʼyou wanna…head inside with me?”


	12. teeth

Breaths shaking, bodies shifting, and then again, the rhythmic groans as Gladio slid himself back into Ignisʼ private world. Slowly at first, then building up to a sweeter heat, until Ignis would be playing the chorus of their lovemaking in heavenly crescendos. 

If not for his teeth on Gladioʼs forearm, he might have finished with an aria that cracked the world like an egg, and one that still struggled free from the confines of his mouth as Gladio coaxed his release with gentle kneading. Until he was spent. 

Ignis was still quivering when he pulled out, dressed in nothing but their mingled sweat and scent, as fragile as he was guarded in the eyes of strangers. Gladio almost moved too clumsily in disposing his used condom in his haste to be by his side. 

But before he could fall to his proper place, Ignis rolled to his back and revealed two packets between his fingers, the black glossy one a bit bigger than the discreet silver foil. “Again,” he ordered, amidst his heavy breathing. 

Gladio took one second to feast his eyes on his loverʼs state—unkempt, honest, completely exposed. 

Then he crushed their lips together, teeth clacking, their tongues now familiar with their new favorite tastes. Gladioʼs hands scaled the long paths of Ignisʼ sides to capture his hard thighs and squeeze them. 

While Ignis worked on the double to open up the black packet and soak his hand in its content. Reaching down between their legs, he brought their needy flesh together to caress them back into life. 

In the quiet night, the encore of their romance began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably my most favorite chapter by far bc it's the most coherent lmao. thanks for hanging on! o/


	13. flustered

As soon as heʼd stepped back into the tent, the first thing he saw was Ignisʼ smile. 

“Fucking cold out there,” Gladio laughed, taking his place next to his lover who welcomed him back with an eager kiss. 

Then he pushed Gladio to the sleeping bag so he could use his pecs as his pillows, though he couldnʼt imagine how effective that would be considering they werenʼt…particularly soft, so to speak. 

But Ignis seemed to like it, rubbing his face as if to snuggle deeper. Gladio secured him with an arm around the back of his waist, that one that would bruise where Ignis bit him as he came, and a hand tapping the soft curve of his ass. “That was wonderful,” he mumbled to his skin. “Are you sure you havenʼt been with anyone before me?” 

Gladio laughed again. “Iʼve had some flings here and there,” he revealed. 

From bliss, those green eyes fluttered open to look at him. 

Then Ignis drew himself up higher until he was resting his chin on those hands atop Gladioʼs collarbone, almost bringing them lips to lips with each other. But not quite. “And me? Am I a fling, too? A summer fling…” Those romantic nothings that only existed in songs and movies. 

As if. From his ass, Gladio carried his hand to the back of Ignisʼ neck so he could bring his thumb to the arc of his handsome cheek. “I sure hope not,” he croaked after several pensive seconds. “If youʼll have me…I might be happy to be called your boyfriend.” 

A thought that made Ignisʼ eyes twinkle in the lightless tent. “You might not be alone, then. Besides,” Gladio allowed his rising hope to fill his smile as his lover traced the shape of his shoulder idly, “I doubt thereʼll be anyone out there who could compare to the little man down there…who, truth be told, isnʼt quite so little or modest.” A side of Ignis he never expected to see from their first meeting. 

“Saved by the balls?” Gladio coughed, trying not to appear too flustered than he really was, despite the warmth creeping up to his ears. He wondered how drunk with love he looked like right now. “No, I donʼt want you to be a fling,” he muttered all of a sudden, that thumb now tracing the beautiful shape of Ignisʼ lips. 

Which smiled back at him. “How much longer do you have here in Lestallum?” He hadnʼt been thinking about it, truth be told. 

The last few days he spent in Lestallum had been some of the best in his entire life, and while he knew they were counting, each day felt like an eternity all to themselves. As long as he had Ignis in his eyes, his hand in his… 

“‘bout a week or so?” But Gladio would have to face the real world soon enough. And so would Ignis, and whatever they called this relationship they had between them. “I donʼt wanna think about it yet, not with you and me like this,” he sighed. 

“Then let me think about it,” Ignis decided, as easily as he decided what to cook for dinner. “Let me think about all the things I want to do with you before I must send you off. Okay?” It sounded fair. Between the two of them, he was more the thinking sorts. Gladio, he just wanted to be with Ignis, however way he could be. 

With a slow smile, he conceded to his boyfriendʼs words. “Okay.”


	14. scar

Should he be called the lucky one…or the blessed one? 

Ignis was a vision to behold in all the things heʼd seen him in. Out in the city, he was always sharp, always the most handsome being the gods allowed to cross the earth. Shoulders back, chin tilted up just so, hair pulled up to a sleek pompadour, his clothes always freshly ironed. 

Beneath Gladio, he was the most beautiful creation the gods could draw from their likeness. How his half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks stirred his innermost desires like a hot pot, the way he writhed and arched his immaculate form as they pushed into each other, the perfect shape of his mouth as he sang out Gladioʼs name. 

Now asleep beside him…Gladio wondered if the gods ever dreamed of him to be their epitome. Just the sheer length of him, the way his eyes could slide from the bump of his shoulders to the swell of his hips with ease. His peaceful aspect which was also, despite it all, so full of life. 

So flawless, as if the scars were meant to be where they were. 

People grew up with scars—Gladio had always known that, especially for himself. If they had the fortune of surpassing their trials, their tragedies, they were bound to walk away with a few here and there. When he met Ignis, heʼd noted his scars but had thought it was rude to be curious. When they started dating, he came to know them as accents of his character. But now that they were lovers, boyfriends… 

He had to wonder how he got them. People came away with scars from the silliest things but some…donʼt. Not everyone takes home a nick up their brow, their nose, their lips. 

_I wonder what happened?_ he thought to himself, as the birds began to trill beyond their secret world, feeling that little cut on his brow which seemed to have embedded itself in his greater beauty. _I wonder if heʼs okay…_

Ignis stirred at the lightest of his touch. When he made to pull back, though, a warm hand alighted upon his knuckles. So he could keep his touch on his cheek, and kiss the heel of his palm. 

Awake, Ignis was like spring knocking on every door. His green eyes sparkled like dewy leaves, and his smile was like the song Gladioʼs heart sung.


	15. heart

“Now, what would you like for breakfast?”

“I dunno. You a part of the menu?” 

When Ignis laughed, Gladio felt his spirits soar. Matched with the cool breeze from the lake, the gentle waterfall, the endless summer skies, the wonderful feeling of waking up next to the man who was now his boyfriend, and after that night full of sex, it was enough to make Gladioʼs heart swell. 

To top it all off, Ignis had dressed himself in his tank top and jacket as he shuffled out the tent in his slippers to start the grill. It was a look Gladio didnʼt realize he would be into. 

Before he could get work on the eggs while the grill heated itself, Gladio captured him in his arms and pressed a big fat kiss on his cheek. Ignis giggled, seemingly surprised and tickled, shoulders rising too late to protect him. 

Then he turned him around, a big smile splitting his face wide open while Gladio combed a little at Ignisʼ fringes. There was sunlight in those eyes that looked back to him. “Youʼre so handsome,” he swooned, to the beating of his heart. 

“Oh please,” Ignis chuckled, placing both his hands on Gladioʼs bare chest as if to feel it. “Next to you?” 

“Dammit, Iʼm being honest,” Gladio laughed, sharing half-shy, half-delighted grins with the man in his arm. “Just…I love your eyes, your lips…hell, I even love your scars.” There was not a part about him that wasnʼt perfect, was what he wanted to say. 

But it could be that Ignis had taken it the wrong way, with how his brows flickered upwards. How his grin faltered before it decided to just keep up appearances. 

Heʼd said something he shouldnʼt have. “Sorry,” Gladio began to apologize, stunned by his carelessness, searching Ignisʼ kind face for forgiveness. “I—” 

His phone rang at that moment. Gladio pulled it from the back of his jeans to bring it to his ear. “Prompto?” 

“ _Hey,_ ” the man whispered. Ignis cast Gladio a questioning look but he replied with a hand out, telling him to wait. “ _Am I interrupting something?_ ” 

“No,” Gladio stepped away from Ignis to give the call a bit more seriousness. “Whatʼs up? Howʼs Noct?” Why else would he call him? 

“ _Yeah, about that,_ ” Prompto cleared his throat, then paused…before he dropped the news that nearly caused him a cardiac arrest: “ _Noct got into a umm…a little accident._ ”


	16. regalia

He didnʼt take the Regalia with him. 

That was enough to tell Gladio that something had gone wrong with the plan, something which they had _both_ agreed on. The prince was supposed to take the Regalia back to Lestallum with an escort of Meldacioʼs men. Gladio and Ignis were supposed to borrow a van that would take them back the next day. But likely, it was the reverse that happened. 

_Typical prince_ , Gladio snarled as he started the car and waved to Meldacioʼs men as thanks for looking after the car overnight. Ignis pulled the door shut beside him. And just when things were going so well… 

_Too_ well? They had an amazing time at the falls—all of them. Noctis had indulged in his hobby and had laughed a lot, he and Ignis had enjoyed some intimate time together. Now the prince had gotten into an accident (a _minor_ accident, Prompto assured him, as if that made things any better) and he only found out because Prompto had called him behind the princeʼs back… 

Three hours later, he and Ignis were finally driving up to the parking lot and then hurrying to The Leville. A hospital would have been more suitable, Gladio grumbled to himself, but the prince had said something about that, too. Something about attracting attention, something…

Something about not wanting him to worry. As if the prince had a say in _that_ , he was the _heir to the crown!_

And this was exactly what was in Gladioʼs head when he left Ignis to tend to the nervous Prompto who looked like heʼd been sent away from the room. He pulled the main door shut behind him and marched his way to the princeʼs bedroom. 

It was like walking right into a bubble. The air quiet and still, the prince seemingly frozen in time in his bed, legs under the quilt, the scenery something that would have suited a painting well. 

The prince turned to him from the sunlit windows, then scowled and turned back to the town. “Itʼs just a sprain,” he muttered. Hello, how was last night, great, thanks, how are you? 

It was almost as if he was talking to the sulky man from the day they arrived again. Gladio breathed in patience—he had done this before, he reminded himself—as he approached the young man. “A sprain on your dominant leg. Even a pianist wonʼt be able to perform with an injury like that. And gods dammit, even if you werenʼt a fencer, youʼre still the prince!” He flung his hand to the man who flinched, as if from his accusation. “You’re not supposed to get injured!” 

“Well, itʼs nothing fatal,” Noctis grumbled, looking darker. “And it wasnʼt foul play either, it was just an accident from a friendly match. You didnʼt have to come back so soon—” 

“What do you _mean_ I shouldnʼt have come back so soon?!” Gladio exploded, his voice causing the prince to jump and shrink into himself, glaring at his lap. Or at his bad leg. “You and I had an agreement that you would call me if something happened and you would take the Regalia but _you didnʼt!!_ ” 

“Because I didnʼt want to take you away from Ignis!” Noctis finally snapped, baring his fangs at him. 

That was the most ridiculous thing Gladio had ever heard, though. “W…” What was he supposed to say? “What…?”

Noctis frowned deeply, dropping his gaze to his lap again, himself to his pillows as he crossed his arms. “I know you guys like each other,” he revealed. “Iʼve never seen you that way around anyone before so I didnʼt want to get in your way.” He didnʼt… 

Gladio huffed, his anger and shoulders falling in the same breath. “What are you saying?” he asked. That was to say, he knew what he was saying but… 

He pointed to himself, finger on his chest. “Ainʼt I your bodyguard? Why would you be getting in our way? Ignis knows my job.” 

Grayish blue eyes came up to meet him. “I just…” he started after a long pause. Faltered. 

Shrugged as he turned back to the windows. “Just wish you didnʼt have to be stuck with me, thatʼs all.” Oh Astrals, of all the times to be having a change of heart… 

Gladio exhaled deeply, bracing his hands on his sides as he looked off to the distance. Completely stumped for words.


	17. summerʼs end

He found Ignis, as he always did, in the lookout. By now, the man had found the time to take a shower, put up his hair and change into fresh clothes that didnʼt look like theyʼd been pressed and jostled in an overnight bag. 

“Well?” Ignis asked him, watching his approach. “How is he?” 

“Sulky,” Gladio confessed, scratching at the back of his half-pony a little. “Nothing new,” he added, joining his boyfriend by the barrier that separated them from the deep crag below. He braced his elbows on the top, breathing in the clean air. “He said it was a friendly match with one of the competitors from the Cup. The other guy misstepped and would have cracked his chin if Noct hadnʼt charged in to catch him. Then he sprained himself falling down.” 

“Did you forgive him for being the hero?” As if he could _not_ forgive him for anything. 

Gladio started to chuckle, quirking up his lips for a smirk. “Hero actʼs all well and good…” His head fell when he shook it. “But itʼs him not telling me what happened that pisses me off. ‘sif it ainʼt my business to know.” 

“So why didnʼt he?” Every question Ignis had asked so far rode on his patient voice. He knew Gladio had things in his mind and he wanted to guide him through them. 

It took a moment before Gladio could answer him. “‘cause he didnʼt wanna pull me away from you.” He turned to face his boyfriend to catch him blinking his eyes in shock, lips parting with the same effect. “‘pparently the punk chose today to think about the kind of life I could have outside my work.” 

“He really said that?” 

Gladio nodded. 

A careful exhale escaped Ignisʼ nose. He looked back out onto the distant fields, the slight breeze carrying their scent. The day was pleasantly cooler than the usual sticky ones from the past week. 

“And what did you say?” Ignis inquired after a quiet moment. 

“Told him you would understand,” Gladio shared with a little shrug. “Mean, what else was I supposed to say? Itʼs my job to make sure he didnʼt get hurt, yʼknow? Canʼt even imagine what the kingʼd tell me once he catches him with a crutch. Or my dad,” he snorted. 

“Your father…” Ignis began. “Who is the best friend of the king.” 

Gladio nodded. “I didnʼt get the job just because of myself. Dad put in a good word for me. So me doing a good job,” he shrugged, “it ainʼt just about the royal family. Itʼs about Dad, too. If I leave a bad impression, that affects his impression, too.” 

“I understand,” Ignis said. “That kind of thinking…itʼs one of the reasons why I left the Crown City, you know?” 

“Oh yeah?” Gladio almost snapped towards Ignis in surprise. That was new. And unexpected. “Whyʼs that? What happened?” 

But again, Ignis shook his head. “Itʼs an old memory,” was his only retort. Gladio thought he was avoiding his eyes. “I donʼt enjoy thinking about it.” 

An honest answer that made Gladio frown. “Sorry.” He seemed to be striking too many times in a row in one day. 

After that, they fell into some silence again. Dusk was creeping closer to the edge of the light skies. 

“Howʼs Prompto, by the way?” 

Ignis started to nod. “Heʼs fine. Heʼs doing a shoot right now. I told him to let Noct cool down a little before he went back to talk to him.” 

“You know, I suddenly thought of something,” Gladio began anew out of the blue, facing Ignis. “If you hadnʼt left Insomnia…would we have met? Could we have met sooner?” 

Ignis smiled a little at the thought. “Perhaps,” he considered. “Perhaps we would have been the better…or the worse.” 

“Yeah,” Gladio replied with a little smirk. “Maybe…maybe this is for the best.” He reached for Ignisʼ hand to take it. “That we met here instead, at this point in our lives. Even if that means…” He sighed, looking at their entwined fingers. “After summer…” When he has to go back to Insomnia… 

Ignis squeezed him reassuringly. “Well, it is still the summer, isnʼt it?” When Gladio looked up to him, he offered him a smile. He was right, of course. But… 

But when it does end, then…


	18. meteor shower

From the high of the last night, Gladioʼs mood certainly flattened to an all-time low. Whatever it was he and Noctis said, the truth was plain for all to see: once the summer was over, he and Ignis may have to say goodbye to each other, too—not just physically. Long-distance relationships exist, of course, but they werenʼt without their challenges. Even the strongest couples caved at the merest distance between them, and he and Ignis hadnʼt even been together for a _month_ …

A damn shame…to be having these clouded thoughts on a clear night. When the last meteor shower of the summer was going to grace Cleigneʼs skies. 

With the lookout full of people, some tourists who still lingered after the conclusion of the summer festival, plus with the princeʼs bad leg, it wasnʼt an ideal place for casual spectators like themselves. Thankfully, though, they could enjoy a certain privilege from the company they kept and found themselves in an impromptu picnic at the rooftop of The Leville. 

Ignis provided the food and drinks, of course, and Prompto brought his camera and an old radio for some music. By then, Noctis had had enough time to come to terms with the delicacy of his position, and to forgive him and to ask for his forgiveness in turn. He could never stay mad at a rare friend, least of all someone who only wronged him out of genuine concern. 

Now they were inseparable once more, both of them hovering near Promptoʼs camera while the photographer got it ready in time for the spectacle. Noctisʼ injury wasnʼt so bad that he couldnʼt move at all but he still had to rely on a crutch to ease the pressure. 

They left Gladio and Ignis on the picnic mat, with all the deli and the cheese and the fruits and the drinks. “I suppose you could say…” Ignis began, hovering a grape to his lips as they watched their silhouettes, “All is well that ends well?” 

“Ya think?” Gladio chuckled, swirling the near-empty bottle of beer in his hand. “Maybe.” He dropped his gaze to his drink. “Hope that means the same for us, too.”

“Gladio…” 

“I know, I know,” Gladio stopped him, making sure to smile as he did so. “I know the summer ainʼt over yet but…itʼs gonna happen sooner than we think.” 

With a smile pressed to his lips, Ignis took his wrist to squeeze it, offering comfort. 

“I like you, Ignis,” Gladio told him. “I like you a lot. Maybe this is love, true love, I dunno but…” He frowned. “I donʼt want us to just be like…a meteor shower,” he gestured to the night with his bottle, “yʼknow? We deserve more than just being a once-a-year thing…” 

Ignis understood him, nodding, a hand coming up to cup his left cheek, trace the downward line of his scar. Shifting closer, then, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together, a simple touch that stilled Gladioʼs thoughts of the uncertain future. He closed his eyes, sinking into the pool of his boyfriendʼs _being_. Deeply enough that he couldnʼt resurface when Noctis and Prompto erupted with giddy laughter. The first star had fallen, and Gladio had missed it. 

But he wouldnʼt miss any part of Ignisʼ kiss for whatever the cosmos offered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this part was cut a bit awkwardly mostly to make way for tomorrow's prompt lol ✌🏼


	19. loyalty

“How about a wish?” Ignis offered. 

A suggestion that made Gladio laugh. “That what?” he asked, facing the man who kept his eyes on the night sky, lest he miss another falling star. “I get to come back again?” 

“Itʼs a good place to start,” Ignis pointed out with a raised brow, turning to him. “I would wish for you to come back here, Gladio.” As if that was supposed to make him feel better. Or maybe it did, it was always nice to be wanted, after all. And it was even better to be wanted _back_. 

But the point was that they couldnʼt, right? Gladio had to go soon, and leave the man that he loved. “How ‘bout _I_ wish for you to come back with me to Insomnia?” In some parallel universe, maybe that was possible. 

Too bad it couldnʼt be this particular one. “Gladio,” Ignis clicked his tongue, though he wore an unmistakable smile on his face despite his refusal. He didnʼt have to explain himself again, of course. 

Gladio understood now that heʼd thoroughly rejected the place he was born in. That he was satisfied here in Lestallum—its summer skies, its friendly people, its meteor showers. “I know,” he sighed, squeezing the hand that he held. Ignis glanced at it briefly, smiling slightly. Shyly. “Just…just wish we could stay together, yʼknow? Like we do now…you work, I work…in the evenings, we meet and talk…sounds like a dream but,” he exhaled, shrugging, “I canʼt quit.” He shook his head, watching his thumb brush Ignisʼ knuckles. “Noct needs me. I canʼt just leave him for myself, yʼknow? Not after all weʼd been through. ” 

“I wouldnʼt want you to leave him either,” Ignis added his voice, meeting his eyes with another smile. “Least of all for me.” For whatever it was worth, he did appreciate Ignisʼ efforts to make the parting easier when it came. 

So Gladio nodded, to show him he was listening. “Yeah, I wonʼt,” he said, bringing Ignisʼ hand to his lips. “I wonʼt.” 

“And we can always keep in touch,” Ignis added a little later. “If…if you would be amenable to a long distance relationship.” Alas, it was the only option left to them. 

“Me?” Gladio grinned at his invitation. “Ignis, you know I am. You know Iʼd stay in touch with ya even if you didnʼt ask.” That much was already obvious…though maybe he needed to hear that, after all. Something to let his heart settle with the fact. Something to tell him, _it sucks, but weʼll try to make it work._ “Iʼm a one-guy kinda guy, yʼknow?” 

A vow that made Ignis beam. “Lucky me,” he said. At least Ignis wanted this as much as he did. Maybe they could make it work, all right. 

They kissed again, sealing the promise between them. Gladio would have gone deeper, his tongue already running lightly over Ignisʼ lips if not for the flash of a camera blinding his left side. He winced at the sudden intrusion and turned slowly to glare at the pair of men gaping at him like some horror movie idiots. 

“Dude,” Noctis whispered loudly. “Whyʼd you have to flash!” 

“I chose the wrong setting!” Prompto winced. 

With a hunterʼs smirk, Gladio flew up to his feet and dashed for the blonde photographer who let out a great wail and stumbled his way to the safety of Ignisʼ immediate perimeter. 

“ _Mom!!_ ” 

“Who are you calling _mom_?!” Ignis snapped back as Prompto slid to his knees, hiding behind his shoulders. “No, Gladio, mind the food!” 

“Iʼm just gonna get this little punk!” 

Prompto wailed again. 

Gladio got him in the end, of course—there was only so much that he could do and Ignis was willing to do for him. Noctis joined them back in the picnic mat before long, sprawling out under the stars. 

They spent the rest of the night, coming up with plans to meet again in the future.


	20. flower

That early morning, Gladio woke up to a surprise mantra that must have snuck up on him while he was dreaming: _date him like itʼs the last day of your lives_. 

It was about as sound a mantra as he could come up with at 4 in the morning, and since he couldnʼt seem to get the echo off his mind, he decided it must be gospel truth. 

So that was what he was operating on the next day. Jogging around the sleeping town, rousing Noctis for breakfast, and then lunch, then visiting the nearby clinic to get his leg checked (before that, arguing with him), those words sat shoulder to shoulder with the rest of his thoughts. Reminding him. Urging him. 

At 3 in the afternoon, he could slip out of work briefly. Noctis had fallen asleep after all those fencing videos they watched and it would probably be an hour still before he would be needed. In the meantime, Gladio took the opportunity to visit a flower shop near the hotel and pick up an order heʼd placed online. Of a large bouquet, full of red roses and dotted with sylleblossoms, purple daisies from Ravatogh and little white flowers. It looked fancy and nice enough to put an excited smile on his face, get his heart drumming like a stage performance. 

Couldn’t hide it properly, though—it was quite bulky and holding it behind him put his wrist at an awkward angle and basically, again, he couldnʼt hide it. 

No choice, then, but to come up to the apple of his eye with the bursting flowers for all the town to see. Gladio could catch their little smiles as they watched him approach the lookout. 

Towards that man coming up to the barrier, flexing himself backwards. He had some hours yet to burn so he could definitely use a break, he thought. “Ignis!” 

Ignis whirled to him, smiling as soon as their eyes had met. “Gladio,” he greeted back, waving to him. Picture perfect next to the afternoon light, the translucent beauty of Cleigne beyond. “Oh, my dear, you shouldnʼt have.” 

“‘sif I could resist for long,” Gladio chuckled, passing him the bouquet. “Wonʼt be long ‘til I canʼt give it to you personally, yʼknow?” 

“If you must insist on giving me flowers despite the distance, then might I insist on a particular kind?” Ignis carried the flowers like an awkward child, a bit too big for Gladio to close the distance between them but at least his hands were free enough to touch him by his tapered waist. 

“Sure,” he said, shuffling a little closer, “got a favorite?” 

“Indeed,” Ignis confirmed. “I use it often when I cook for myself.” 

“Oh, that kinda flower.” Gladio rolled his eyes, much to Ignisʼ cheerful amusement. “What is this, a cabbage?” 

“Cabbages arenʼt flowers, Gladio.” 

“Theyʼre all leaves!” 

“Leaves arenʼt flowers, Gladio!” Ignis laughed, his eyes forming crescents over his sunlit smile. 

Gladio was going to miss that look, he thought. But also, at the same time, he was glad he could see it for himself while he still could, he thought. 

He carried his hand to Ignisʼ cheek and brushed the height of his smile. The man leaned into his touch, as he so often would. 

Gladio leaned in to kiss him, then, and would have found those waiting lips if not for the shaking under his feet.


	21. founderʼs day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember friends, nobody is doing research here lmao

_10 years ago, Founderʼs Day._

It happens when they least expect it—on a day where literally everyone and _everyone_ was out to enjoy the gift of being founded. Balloons high and low over the city, streamers and banners literally everywhere, shouting about an occasion that literally needed no more promotion. _Happy Founderʼs Day_ , they all told him. 

Itʼs easy for Gladio to welcome the spirit into his mood. It was a rare day-off, and a holiday at that. Lots of good things he could get up to with a woman he rarely saw anymore after his family broke up. 

“You ready yet, Mom?” Even from the call, Gladio was already beaming. “I just got off the bus, Iʼm almost at your apartment.” 

He was already within sight of it when the unthinkable began. A chorus of dogs, the flutter of birds and then somehow, Gladio started swaying, dancing for some balance he couldnʼt seem to get a hold of. Typical of him, his body understood what the hell was going on, pulling him out to the open road, before his mind could catch up to the shaking under his feet: it was an earthquake. There was an earthquake happening. 

The panic started soon after, the joyful music replaced by static and a bubbling rumble coming from everywhere. Gladio wanted to start shouting, too, but then his mind couldnʼt say if that was the best thing to do. 

And then it stopped, almost as soon as it started. The world was too quiet and suddenly too still and there was an odd moment where Gladio couldnʼt place himself in his own shoes, or the whole place with himself. Everywhere was just a gaggle of bloodshot faces coming together, holding each other. No one he recognized. 

It was in his looking around, chasing the sound of hurrying feet, that brought him again to the apartment building heʼd been heading for, still upright for the most part. 

_Thank the gods,_ he said, just as he started running. Buildings werenʼt a safe place to be in in an earthquake, and his mom was alone! 

“‘scuse me!!” Someone had cried after heʼd displaced her with his bulk, charging past two figures. “‘scuse me, I need—!!” 

A ringing of voices, the crack of thunder. 

And then Gladio was on the ground, tucking himself in a fetal form as the world came crashing over him.

—

From the silence, there came the sound of sirens. Of rocks moving and then of voices, beckoning to him, “Sir? Sir!”

Gladio woke up with a gasp, forced without a choice, not with firm hands pulling him by his arms, guiding him to his feet. The world was an unrecognizable gray shape, and he was the only alien in this foreign land. 

The brief spark of panic had caused him to fight against his captors who panicked back, gripped him harder and appealed to him again urgently. “Sir, Sir!!” They had helmets on, dust on their faces. 

Rescue workers. “Sir, you were under the building. Try not to move too much.” 

“Building?” Gladio muttered, confused by the word. 

“Do you remember where you are, Sir?” Where he was… 

He didnʼt, couldnʼt recognize those torn flags covered in dust, or that pile of rubble where his motherʼs apar… 

His mother…! 

Gladio cursed under his breath as he nudged the men back and marched for the unrecognizable debris. This time, he ignored them when they cried for his attention, stumbling farther away from their concern, faster towards the flattened rocks and the iron rods jutting out. 

“ _Mom!_ ” roared out of his chest before he could stop himself. Gladio had half a mind to dig at the jigsaw of concrete with his own bare hands if he just knew where to start. “Mom!!” Of course, all that shouting was bound to draw everyoneʼs attention to him and this time, there were plenty of them—four, five pairs of hands fighting him, pulling him farther from the accident. The bastards—

“Let me go!” Gladio growled, pulling his arms and kicking but he was the one whoʼd had a wall come down on him, or something. And they were the ones who knew what was happening, whose minds werenʼt racing with visions of his mother splayed under the rubble— “ _Mom!!_ ” 

And then that was all he could see. That was all he could ever think of. Gladio shoved them back again and ran where they wouldnʼt be able to catch him, skirting the mountainous debris. He had to find his mother, they couldnʼt understand that he was _fine_ and she _wasnʼt_. “Mom, itʼs me! Where are you?!” 

“Sir! Sir…” 

He would have fought him off if he had looked like them at all but this one racing to catch him by his biceps didnʼt. He had no helmet on and he was dressed in an everyday suit that would have looked sharp if not for the red and the gray and the black and the tears on it. His dust-covered hair had lost its style, fringes hanging over his forehead in a complete mess and amidst the bloody cuts of his face, his green eyes stood out. 

Blood…he was bleeding. 

“Sir, you are bleeding,” the stranger said to him. His hands were shaking where they gripped Gladio and it was obvious he was at his witʼs end but he was hanging by the skin of his fingernails. “Please allow us to look for her instead. Where is she? What does she look like?” Finally, someone who could understand him. 

“U, un, unit 358,” Gladio sputtered, hanging onto those green eyes like a tether for his sanity. “Black hair, brown eyes…sh, sh, sheʼs this tall,” he put his hand somewhere at the pit of his arms, “I, I donʼt know what sheʼs wearing…” 

But the stranger nodded, and that was the first time anyone had ever listened to him at all. “I understand. We will look for her. Please, Sir, you need medical attention.” 

“W, what about you?” Gladio stammered, his eyes traveling along his cuts. “You’re bleeding, too.” 

The stranger shook his head. “Iʼm fine, Sir. Iʼll look for your mother. What is her name?” 

“Rosa…Rosa Ami—”

“We will look for Lady Rosa,” the stranger assured him. “We will call you. Now, please, Sir, you must look after yourself, as well.” 

“Stupeo? Stupeo!!” 

That was where he left him. Stupeo glanced over his shoulder, looked back to Gladio and nodded before he took his leave, stumbling onwards, hand hovering to his head. He needed medical care, too, he was no rescue worker. 

A sudden choir of fright snapped him out of his reflection. He whirled back to see those people pointing at something up top and whirled again to see the wall opposite the apartment building listing slowly. 

And Stupeo was in the way, half-limping, none the wiser—

“ _Fuck_ ,” Gladio growled, racing for him. “Sir, get outta the way! Sir— _Stupeo!!_ ” 

He slammed onto the clueless man, and they landed as one, just as the earth rumbled again with the part of the wall that fell. Somehow, theyʼd managed to roll away to safety, Gladio pulling the man under him so he could cover him with his bulk. 

“Sir,” he coughed, as soon as the stillness had returned, heart ready to leap out of his mouth. This was too much for one day, _one lifetime_. “Sir, you okay?!” Stupeo started to cough, then, face crumpling in discomfort. “You with me? You almost caught a wall there.” 

“Did I?” Stupeo winced. “Thank the gods you caught me, then.” 

A surprising comment that drew a funny smirk up Gladioʼs face. “Damn fine pickup line for a shitty time. Cʼmon,” he started to get up, “weʼre getting some medical attention.” 

Neither of them fought the other as they marched for the emergency tent, though they parted as soon as the first responders escorted Gladio to his seat. Stupeo looked like he had other more pressing things to think about. 

Morning turned to afternoon…turned to night. 

Gladio had stayed in the tent, waiting for word about his mother, and refused to leave even when his father had arrived to bring him home. 

In fact, he had sent him away, shoving him back, ready to throw him to the ground if not for those who came between them as he brayed accusations at him. “Itʼs all your fault!! If you hadnʼt asked her for divorce, she would still be living with us in the mansion! This is all your fault, sheʼs missing because of you!!” 

Those wild emotions took a lot out of his battered self…but still he refused to leave, choosing to disappear in some corner where he could sob out everything inside him. His fatigue, his helplessness, his rage, his worries… 

Before the night ended, at least, they found his mother. She was dressed in the new skirt she showed off to Gladio the last weekend, with a caption that read, _I know what I'm wearing to FD now! :)_ Both of them had been excited about their date that day. 

They couldnʼt even go out for one last time before tragedy struck. “Mom?” Despite knowing what had happened, though, he couldnʼt stop himself from chasing her in her gurney, shaking her by her shoulders on their way to the silent tent next to the medical workers. “Mom! Mom, itʼs me! Mom!!” 

It would be some time before he could bring himself to leave her side, or to confirm her body. To start accepting what had become of them. He didnʼt have to wait too long for his father to return to help him collect her body after he guilt tripped him into doing it. But before he left, he had someone else he had to talk to. 

Stupeo was still there himself, hunched on a plastic seat, fists on his lips, forgotten in the sea of crisis. Gladio took a fresh can of Ebony from somewhere and offered it to him. 

Those green eyes seemed to come alive as he flew up to his height, wiping his hands on his dusty jeans. “Sir, you are still here.” He looked surprised, strips of medical tape littered along his face. “Apologies about Lady Rosa, we still havenʼt found her.” He remembered his mother, in that short a time he knew her. 

“Itʼs all good,” Gladio said, a smile somehow stealing its way to his face. “She umm…we found her.” Which was to say… “W, we found her body…” 

Realization dawned on Stupeoʼs face, slowly and clearly. He looked shell-shocked as he dropped his face, and then his shoulders in a deep bow. 

He refused to come up after. Gladio had been about to pull him up when he realized that he was shaking…and sniffled sharply. 

“Iʼm sorry,” Stupeo choked. “Iʼm truly sorry…I have no excuses, Iʼm sorry.” 

“Hey, hey…itʼs not like itʼs your fault,” Gladio tried to reach him but Stupeo refused to listen. 

So he forced his shoulders up, and somehow, that brought them together in an embrace as Stupeo blubbered tearful apologies for his inadequacy. He was the only one, in that entire tragedy, who ever felt sorry for him, and _with him_ for his mother. A stranger who took his loss as deeply as his own. 

The only friend he had in this cold, gray world. Wrapped, then, in his familiar sympathy, Gladio found himself weeping again.


	22. crystal

As soon as he was sure that the ground wasnʼt going to move treacherously against them, Gladio finally cracked his eyes open. 

They were still standing near the road, to where heʼd vacated himself and Ignis and held him close when the earthquake hit them, somewhere away from the crag but still out in the open. As he inspected his immediate perimeter for any damages, that uncertain bubble of silence finally burst with the first gasps and careful exclamations of surprise. 

He turned to Ignis as soon as the man had stepped back from his embrace. “Hey, Ignis, you okay?” 

“Yes,” Ignis breathed, staring back at him. Those flowers were gone and forgotten now, his hands full of Gladioʼs arms instead. “You?” he asked, but then he was looking up to the skies, as if something might fall. 

“Iʼm okay,” Gladio hurried to tell him, to reassure him. “Ignis.” A careful touch on his cheek and those green eyes would be whipping back to him, wide with fear. He couldnʼt say he didnʼt sympathize, not when his heart was racing to familiar horrors. “Weʼre out in the open. Nothingʼs gonna drop on us.” 

“Of course,” Ignis coughed, but he was still looking around him. This wasnʼt the first time heʼd been in an earthquake. “Still…still, we canʼt be too careful—” 

From the temporary stillness came the urgent voices that Gladio had come to associate with the disaster. The shock had caused him to jump and pull Ignis towards him as they searched the open space for the source of the excitement. 

Found it at the lookout where everyone had gathered by the wall to point at something across the distance. Gladio didnʼt have to pass the question to Ignis before they were already running to the spectacle, hand in hand, to seek out the alarming thing in the landscape. 

They made it just in time to hear, first, a crack in the vacuum. And then with rising cries, one of the crystal spires of the meteor marking the Disc of Cauthess had broken off and dropped the great height onto its crater. Its impact reached them with a slow boom. 

Now the air was abuzz with terror, the crowd pressing around them as if to urge the Meteorʼs tail to repeat its own destruction. This had never happened before, the Meteor was supposed to be perpetual. 

But that was just how strong this earthquake was—enough to shake even the eternal towers of the ancient Meteor. 

Gladio cursed under his breath, stumbling back from the wall. The quake had been large enough to affect such a thing and Noctis was in the hotel room, alone, with a bad leg. 

He blew past Ignis even as the man called him in alarm, darting through the open space, past people zipping here and there, all with their own emergencies. Ignis came barking for him again, telling him to wait. 

Gladio couldnʼt stop for him, though. Noctis needed him and he wouldnʼt be able to forgive himself if he failed to rescue him when he needed him. His mind was already showing him the worst things that could happen. 

He jumped back at the last minute as a car raced pass him. Tore through the road again before he could see if it was clear—

“ _Gladio!!_ ” 

Ignis crashed into him and sent them tumbling onto the hard ground. An angry truck roared past them, nearly deafening Gladio in its wake. He forgot to yelp when his shoulder collided against the concrete a second time, tucking himself as tightly as he could within those long arms that protected him until their momentum finally stopped. 

Bringing him under Ignisʼ form, his green eyes wild, fringes hanging over his pompadour. This face. 

Heʼd seen it before. 

And the way he jumped and gasped, Gladio knew then that Stupeo had remembered him, as well.


	23. bad memory

Not everything was bad with the world yet. 

Gladio couldnʼt fathom his relief when he and Ignis had gotten to Noctis just as he was hobbling out of the hotel, two members of the hotel staff flanking him. After thanking them for doing his job, he took him back to the center island on the lookout, wary of being close to any buildings at such a precarious time. 

They stayed there by one of the benches where Prompto found them, bursting about all the photos and videos heʼd taken during the main quake and after. His rush would keep them all occupied, all of them eager to learn about the rest of the town. Heʼd gotten pictures of toppled walls, shards of crystals scattered near the powerplant. That church of the imaginary Diabolos fared none the better, as well. 

It was a tragedy—but not theirs. Not Gladioʼs or Ignisʼ. 

“You okay?” Gladio inquired of his boyfriend as soon as he returned to his side. 

While the responders made their rounds, and the land seemed to settle down again, they retreated to his and Promptoʼs shop which Ignis kept open for those needing of quick food and drinks. 

Ignis glanced up to him from his plastic stool, then accepted the cup of coffee that Gladio passed him. “Better than others,” he answered as his boyfriend reclaimed the seat next to him. He took a sip and set the cup on his serving station. “It is just that…I am seeing flashbacks in my head after we looked through Promptoʼs photos.” 

“Founderʼs Day Earthquake?” 

Ignis bounced a little with his shoulders as he nodded. “It has been ten years since, yes?” 

Gladio confirmed with his own nods. “Was actually wondering what became of ya after that,” he confessed after a moment. “It ainʼt exactly your typical meet-cute.” He pushed a smirk up his cheek as Ignis chortled softly. “But…on that dark day, you were the only friend I had. You were the only one that listened to me when everyoneʼs forgotten about my mother.” 

A ghost of a smile flickered on Ignisʼ face. “I took her death personally. I saw her death as a failure on my part. To this day, I think I could have saved her…if only…” He sighed, frowning off to the side. The hurt was still there in his crumpled features. “If only I hadnʼt been so meek…!” There was a story waiting to be let out here. 

Gladio wanted to hear it. “So whoʼs Stupeo?” 

Ignis laughed at that tiring question, though it came off with a broken note that painted his smile. 

“I am Stupeo,” he finally revealed before long. “I was supposed to be named Stupeo Scientia but my grandfather died before I was born. So my parents decided to honor his memory by naming me after him. My uncle, though, the same man who taught me how to fence, used it as a term of endearment…and we were very close until ten years ago.” 

“You mean…” Gladio ventured. “After the quake?” 

Ignis nodded. “You see that apartment building your mother was renting in belonged to my uncle. He shared the business with some friends.” He frowned. “And they arenʼt…I suppose you can say…the most conscientious folks. So the integrity of the building has never been of a standard suitable for living, but my uncle would not speak a word no matter what I tell him. He did not want to offend his friends, from whom we have benefited greatly, even earning us invitations to the royal galas.” 

“Ah…” So that was it. His mom… 

She was just a victim of someoneʼs silence. “Then the earthquake struck,” Ignis went on. “Then the building fell. And so many people died, all because…” Ignis shook his head. “My uncle would not listen to me, and I spoke too softly.” 

“Ignis,” Gladio sighed, claiming one of Ignisʼ hand to squeeze. 

“I could not take it, then.” Ignis brought Gladioʼs knuckles to his lips, then brushed it fondly with his thumbs. “I became jaded about everything Insomnia stood for. Saving faces. The royal family. After I argued my inheritance from my parents, I spent every single one of it paying the hospital bills of the victims…and with what little savings I had left, I took a bus and moved here to start a new life. Away from everything that reminded me of Insomnia.” 

“No wonder you wonʼt come back to it anymore,” Gladio mumbled. 

Ignis only nodded, his point proven. And then without warning, he laughed again. “Had I known who you would be in my life, though,” he smiled at him, “I wonder what my decision would have been.” The eternal question. 

“Hard to say,” Gladio replied, offering a previous conversation they had. “Could've been better, couldʼve been worse.” He laid a hand over that one that held him. “But weʼre here, yeah? You and I…” 

“In the end,” Ignis said with a brush of amusement. “As we should be.” What was it he said once? All was well that ended well. 

Gladio opened up his arms and Ignis fell into his embrace on cue. He pressed his lips on his forehead. 

“You know,” he chuckled suddenly, “now that Iʼm remembering everything, I realized I should have recognized you from the start. But there was so much dust and blood on your face, and I was so fucking rattled…” 

“One side of your face was red, too,” Ignis added. “I couldnʼt have realized it was you until…” Until heʼd saved Gladio, the same way Gladio had saved him once. 

Gladio smiled, despite the tragedy. “Until you caught me.”


	24. tattoo

As soon as the all-clear had been sounded off, both by the town and the hotel management, the next thing for Gladio to do was to carry Noctis back to his room. But in a twist of events, the prince got up on his own (racing the panicking Prompto to his crutch) and insisted to see the extent of the damage with his own eyes. Not once in his whole life as a prince had the young man taken such a stand, so to speak, until now. 

“But he was actually really quiet while we were sitting there,” Prompto sputtered out his explanation while they followed him around like an entourage, all three of them. “You know? And he had like—” He pulled his blonde brows low and frowned tightly enough to look like he was constipated, “—this look on his face. Even when I tried to distract him with stories about Gralea.” 

“I find myself wondering if he thinks there is too little being done,” Ignis mused, shifting his glasses back, “I remember during the Founderʼs Day Earthquake, the response team had been quite speedy and there was, I suppose, enough to go around.” 

“Not surprising considering itʼs the seat of the Lucian government,” Gladio observed.

“Out here, however…” Ignis gazed around the narrow street that wound up a short flight of steps, disappearing between two walls. Brick and concrete chips littered the ground, and even the structures seemed as restless as the people that milled about, lingered. All those faces anxious and uncertain. 

“Gladio!” 

Gladio would have made a comment about how that sharp voice had caused him to stand with his shoulders back, if heʼd noticed it at all. But his attention right now was on the prince limping hurriedly to them, practically racing his crutch with his bad foot. The whole chore was obviously making him uncomfortable, carving wrinkles onto his forehead, but he powered through. 

“We gotta call my dad,” Noctis wheezed as soon as he had approached. “These people need help.” 

So they did, though mostly it was Gladio who spoke on Noctisʼ behalf while the prince fed him the words. Yes, His Highness was fine, no, he was not injured. Yes, they were safe, no, they would not leave these people behind…

Even as Gladio hung up, though, he knew this would not be the last of it. With Lestallum being at this state, he would think there was no reason for Noctis to stay longer, especially when Insomnia would be far safer for him… 

In the meantime, they did what they could to help. Finances, food, labor work, anything that could contribute. 

By the time they had made it back to the hotel, it was already late. Ignis and Prompto had walked with them despite their own weariness, leaving only when the prince had pulled his bedroom door close. 

But just before they truly said goodbye, Gladio would be catching Ignisʼ wrist and tugging him back into the expensive suite. 

“Stay the night?” he asked him, looking deeply into his green irises. They were all tired, he should let him go, Gladio knew. But then he was following his the voice inside him that said, _This could be our last night together…_

If Ignis had any thoughts about refusing, Promptoʼs hasty goodbye would change his plans. Heʼd said something about early morning shoots, something about capturing the town after the quake in the dawn and then he was off. 

And Ignis was walking with Gladio into his private bedroom. “My,” he chuckled suddenly as Gladio locked the door, pulling his glasses from his face. “Your bedroom looks bigger than mine.” 

“Well, weʼre paying for it,” Gladio replied in amusement, as well, shrugging off his leather jacket. “You can leave that on the writing table with my stuff.” 

Ignis found it just next to the bathroom door, and followed it up with the rest of his effects—watch, keys, phone… 

Gladio had just pulled his tank top from his trousers when Ignis was upon him, fingers folding along the ends of his shirt so he could carry it through his head himself. He let it fall to their feet so he could fill his hands with the swells of Gladioʼs muscles, following the inked wings on his skin to his arms and back again to his shoulders. 

Ignis had a moment where he had to breathe before he could gaze up to Gladioʼs searching look. And then he pulled him down and connected their lips with a crushing force, pushing his tongue into Gladioʼs mouth.


	25. good night

Could he say now that he could leave the next day without regrets? 

_No._ The answer came all too easily to Gladio as he studied Ignisʼ sleeping aspect while the man had curled up on his chest. They had spent the whole night until dawn making love, and then talked briefly before Ignis finally succumbed to a much-needed rest while Gladio was idly playing with his hair, rubbing circles along his back. 

Was it a bad idea, then, to ask him for sex knowing that the time to say goodbye was drawing faster? 

Gladio didnʼt know anymore. He only knew he would have regretted not inviting him while he still could. 

He leaned his head back in his pillow and sighed, still tracing tender lines along Ignisʼ muscles. A part of him wished, of course, that they hadnʼt called His Majesty for help earlier. As if the king would have no way of picking up the disaster from anyone else. Noctis had done well asking him to call. It would have been worse if the king had been the one to do it. Still, knowing how difficult it had been for his liege to let his son go to Lestallum with only his bodyguard and coach… 

Gladioʼs thoughts were taking him around in circles. He was going nowhere, so he gave up. 

Pressed a kiss on Ignisʼ hair as he whispered to him, closing his eyes, _Goodnight, my love._


	26. sharp

They woke up the next day with a call from the king. Relief workers had just left the Crown City of Insomnia and should be in Lestallum within the day, depending on the conditions of the road heading up. This was all good news. It would have been better, though, if the king had told his son all of this but the fact that he didnʼt…the fact that he had to call Gladio who, between him and Noctis, was the one who had no choice but to obey… 

_Heʼs hiding something,_ was the only conclusion Gladio could come to. The king was setting things up so that Noctis would have no choice but to follow his word. Everyone knew how pig-headed the prince could get, after all. _Should I say something to Ignis about this?_

In the meantime, while they were still waiting for aid, they threw their backs into the work again. One of the buildings had caved during the last aftershock and people were stuck in it. So he and Ignis went to lend their hands, and theyʼd been at it since morning. 

Gladio stopped the man briefly after they took a short break to catch their breaths and hydrate. “You sure about this?” 

Ignis looked at him a little strangely, a towel soaked in icy water pressed to his flushed cheeks. The summer was as unmerciful as ever despite the breeze coming in from the crag. “Of course,” he responded after a beat. “Why mustnʼt I?” 

“Iʼm just,” Gladio tossed a hand, crushing his empty bottle of water in the other, “kinda worried, I guess. In the Founderʼs Day Earthquake, you wouldnʼt stay still either for as long as there was work to do.” He gestured to him. “Iʼm just worried you might be…I dunno, coping with the trauma?” He was no psychotherapist, dammit. 

Ignis smiled, anyway. “And if I am, in my opinion, it is not a serious issue. These people need help.” 

“Hey, there you go again—” Gladio clicked his tongue and sighed as Ignis left him in the tent to head back out into the sun, towards the rubble. “Ignis!” Heʼd always been an all-or-nothing guy, Gladio figured, if the blind knife performance from their first day was anything to go by. 

He had no choice but to just keep an eye on him, then. Make sure he didnʼt get in trouble because of the past that still haunted him. Gladio kept himself close to Ignis as they carried off one piece of the wall after another—

Ignis let out a sudden cry as he dropped the stone heʼd been carrying. Its sharp edge had cut through his battered glove and now red was staining the opening. 

Gladio muttered a curse under his breath, capturing him by his biceps. “Let’s go. Weʼre done for the day.” 

“No,” Ignis shook his head, “a bandage is all I will need—” 

“You’ll put these people, this operation in more trouble if you keep at it, Ignis!” Gladio had anticipated those shocked eyes whirling to him. He wished he had shouted less, though, always so clumsy about his large voice. He thought about soothing the sharpness by touching his cheeks but his gloves, his hands felt dirty. So he just looked at him closely, and told him as gently as he could, “We ainʼt experts. This ainʼt our jobs.” Ignis turned away, frowning in some guilt. “And thereʼs more than enough people hurt as it is without us adding onto them. Okay?” 

When Ignis dropped his gaze and turned an ugly frown at his wound, Gladio knew he had gotten through to him. Ignis was always logical, of course. When he nudged him, the man at least did not resist him anymore. “Cʼmon, weʼll be of better help some other way, okay? Letʼs get that treated for now.” 

Finally, Ignis nodded. With obedient feet, he followed Gladio back to the tent.


	27. heal

Carefully, Gladio peeled off the ruined glove from Ignisʼ hand and tilted his palm to the light to assess the damage. It wasnʼt a deep cut, neither was it alarmingly long. Something in the stone must have punctured through the surface and bitten into his hand. 

He let out a sigh of relief as he took a damp cloth from the kit heʼd prepared and started to clean the hand he held. 

“Clumsy me,” Ignis chuckled, though he sounded depressed. 

Even though he tried to smile when Gladio looked up to him. He exhaled before he started, “Like I said—” 

“We are not experts,” Ignis raced him to his reminder. “This is not our jobs…” He sure sounded like he didnʼt appreciate the fact, though. With his elbow on the table between them, he tried to get comfortable on his plastic seat, putting his shoulders back carefully to it, so as not to upset Gladioʼs work. 

“I have heard the same thing in the past,” Ignis confessed while Gladio proceeded with his treatment. “In the Founderʼs Day Earthquake, the responders told me the same thing. And I told them they were wrong—I was responsible for the tragedy.” He attempted a smile, pushing up the corner to his cheek. “I suppose…I never quite got over it. I understand, of course, that you are all correct but…” He shrugged. “I could never truly accept it. I think itʼs an excuse for me to…slack off, I suppose. To presume disaffection.” 

Figures that Ignis had always had high standards when it came to himself. His place in the bigger world. 

Gladio put aside the stained towel to get the wound cleanser. “Itʼs okay, Ignis. You donʼt have to prove anything.” There was silence on the other end as he applied the product on Ignisʼ cut, those long fingers jumping slightly at the sting. 

He smiled at him. Ignis had been expecting him to go on. “You gotta look after yourself, too, Ignis. Donʼt be so hard on yourself.” He went back to his wound. “The world wonʼt be much of a better place just ‘cause youʼd gotten yourself injured for it. And…” He paused, his movements stuttering. Gladio hadnʼt been sure he could tell Ignis at all but now that there was a chance to do it… “…you gotta start practicing now. W, while Iʼm still here for ya…” 

He lifted his eyes to Ignis who frowned, first in confusion, and then in dreaded surprise. “Ignis, His Majesty called this morning to tell us that help was on its way.” 

“Yes,” Ignis responded readily, antsy to hear the rest of what he had to say. “I heard you on the phone while I was still in bed.” 

“Yeah.” Gladio nodded. “Um…” His gaze fell again. 

Then he put away the gauze heʼd used on Ignisʼ wound to find a pad to cover it in. “He didnʼt call Noct. He was just expecting me to rely the message, I guess.” 

“Why?” 

Gladio paused briefly to face him. “Unlike Noct, I donʼt have a choice but to obey him, and I canʼt question him either. Heʼs king. So,” he went back to his wound, now securing the pad with a strip of gauze, “if he tells me to do something and make sure Noct does it, I do it. If…if he tells me to bring Noct back home…” He left the rest of the sentence for Ignis to fill in. 

“I see,” Ignis muttered after a deep pause. 

Gladio found some tapes to fasten the medical strip. 

“Do…do you think it will happen soon?” 

Gladio shrugged. “Maybe,” he answered. Now that the treatment was done, he could wrap both hands around Ignisʼ, just to hold him. “Lestallum ainʼt exactly swinging right now. And even with the parliament handling things, Noctʼs still royalty, yʼknow?” 

“Of course. I understand.” Ignis used to be Insomnian. 

Gladio forced a little smile onto his face before he finally let go of Ignisʼ hand. “Well, there you have it. Good as new.” Or something. 

Ignis brought the hand to his eyes to inspect Gladioʼs first aid. “Thank you,” he said with little spirit. “It still stings, though. As I believe youʼve forgotten something.” 

Gladio frowned at that assessment, and would have countered it with his own if Ignis hadnʼt offered his palm back to him, just under his chin—oh. 

He laughed suddenly, feeling brighter with that little teasing. Gladio held him by the back of his hand, then, and leaned over to press his lips carefully onto his wound. 

Now Ignis appeared pleased with his bandage. “Now it feels better,” he said.


	28. world of ruin

Another day, another sunset. And the work was far from over. 

In the arching gloom of the early evening, from where he sat by the island in the middle of the lookout, Gladio looked upon the town he had come to love in the span of a few days. The music that used to ring high from hawkers, the buskers, and the dancers had since been replaced by the solemn seriousness of rescuers and charity workers and anxious people. Things seemed a lot less tragic now, at least, with the arrival of help from Insomnia. 

But what a sorry state to leave this town in. Days ago, he had been steadily building a list of things he wanted to try again for one last time, before he said goodbye. That food stall in the market, the curry and flatbread from this place, the wine from that bar…

Gone, just like that. Days ago, he could never have imagined lively Lestallum to look like this—broken walls, cracks along the ground, shuttered businesses…looking at them, he could almost forget their first night here. Orange painting the world, the excitement of something new and different budding in his chest… 

When his phone rang again, Gladio realized heʼd been expecting it. Even as he sighed at the name before he answered the call and put the device on his ear. “Your Majesty.” 

“ _Gladiolus, I hear the troops have arrived finally?_ ” 

Gladio nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. Theyʼre working together with the town now.” 

“ _Good,_ ” the king seemed to breathe. “ _That is good. It means the roads have been cleared by now._ ” And they could carry the Prince safely home. “ _Now Gladiolus, listen to me, this is very important._ ” 

Gladio glanced off to the side, where his friends gathered around Ignisʼ store, all of them busy with their own preoccupations. No one of them the wiser for what he was about to hear. 

He bit back another sigh as his eyes landed on Ignis inspecting his hand injury. “Yes, Sir.”


	29. gloves

“Open it.” 

As if the box looked like much. Maybe if they werenʼt fresh off a disaster and running out of time, Gladio might have found more time to look for a better parting present with a nice packaging. Maybe something black and classic, tough, with a shear paper to conceal the item within. 

What Ignis got, though, was a plain white box that was flimsy, easily torn, as he pulled at the scotch tape to find a pair of gloves waiting plainly within. For what it was worth, at least, they could speak for themselves despite the quality of the box. Black along the palm side, silver over the back, with pockets along the knuckles and down to the wrist. 

“My,” Ignis gasped softly, taking both of the pieces into his hands, “these are gorgeous.” Ignis brought the fabric to his nose. “Genuine leather.” 

“Give me some credit,” Gladio chuckled. He tossed the box to the trash bin under his writing desk so he could slide closer to his boyfriend where they sat by the foot of his bed. Night had fallen, and Ignis had asked to join him in his hotel room again. For one last time. One last chance. “Couldnʼt find a better box, though. Things have been tough.” 

“You donʼt say,” Ignis chuckled, lining the fingers up to his own digits to match them. They looked like they would fit. “Is this about my injury this morning?” 

“Maybe?” Gladio chuckled, taking that same hand, just to touch it. “Maybe I was inspired by it. Maybe…Maybe I just donʼt want you to get hurt anymore.”

“Gladio…” 

“Especially not without me,” Gladio met his eyes, smiling wanly. Earlier, when the king had called, it was a command that first thing tomorrow morning, he and Noctis were to head back to Insomnia. “Just wish I could be here longer, yʼknow? Being with you, holding your hand…” 

With a quiet exhale, Ignis raised his to Gladioʼs cheek, tracing the line of his scar with his thumb. “I wish you could be here with me, as well.” But life called. And the summer was over now… 

Gladio pressed that hand closer to his cheek, leaning into that touch. He would miss this. “Canʼt believe we only got one night left. The summer felt like forever.” 

Ignis smiled sadly. “I will miss this,” he sighed. 

“Iʼll miss you, too,” Gladio rumbled back. 

He brought his arms around Ignis and pulled him close, pressing a kiss on his cheek and breathing in his shampoo. Things he wanted to memorize. Tomorrow night, they would be living different lives again. 

How he was going to do it, he didnʼt know anymore.


	30. quiet

He remembered arriving at Lestallum in a sunny, lively afternoon. 

The morning they would leave, it was quiet, still sleepy, the early rays of summer yet to touch the coolish pavement. 

Prompto arrived early to help them pack, making sure to give Noctis and Gladio his business card before they got started. He brought some cheer to the somber foursome, at least. Where he used to be the Insomniansʼ tour guide for Lestallum, now they were the ones inviting him to drop by. 

“You mean now?” Prompto was obviously considering the prospect. “Like right now?” For a guy who traveled hungry across the continent, after all, a road trip would be nothing to him. It would be the easiest thing for him to just drop everything and leave with them. “Like…do you guys have room in your car?” 

“Even if they did, Prompto,” Ignis exhaled, standing up from the luggage of gifts he was packing just so he could put his hand on his side. “Arenʼt you forgetting something?” 

“Yeah, I know,” Prompto half-mumbled, pushing his own bag flatter. “I wasnʼt being serious about it, I know I have commitments!” A lot of the people who booked him still chose to keep their schedule despite the earthquake. Especially now that there seemed more hope for recovery, following the arrival of Insomnian help…

“Still wish you could come with us.” 

“Still wish you could stay.” 

Gladio tutted at Ignisʼ rebuttal as he wheeled Noctisʼ luggage out of the lobby. Say what he might, though, this stubbornness was just one of the many, many things he would miss about him. “Never change.” 

“I never changed for you, did I?” Ignis smirked, marching alongside him. “I find it hard to believe I would change for anything less.” His way with words, too, he would miss them. And the way they always made him smile. 

Half an entourage was waiting for them in the Regalia, which was the exact opposite of what Noctis wanted when they were still planning this trip. Gladio passed the keys to their new designated driver (the first one would stay on a little longer, following the disaster) so he could help Noctis settle into the backseat. 

“Want some quilt over your lap, Your Highness?” 

“Shut up,” Noctis muttered, throwing him an ugly look. Bad enough he woke up early after all those late mornings, worse that it was because they were leaving and this time, he had no say in it. Heʼd started that morning with an apology to Gladio. Went on with the rest in a sulky mood. 

Gladio left him in a chuckle following his tease. He grasped Prompto in a low-five as they passed each other on his way to Ignis. 

Their hands found each other as soon as they met. Gladio turned his injured palm slightly to inspect its state. 

“Donʼt worry about it.” Ignis stroked his finger along that stray lock hanging over Gladioʼs brow idly. “Iʼll take good care of it.” 

“You better.” 

“And you take good care of yourself and the prince, too.” Now Ignis pulled at the lapel of his leather jacket, and smoothed it out with his fingers. “Call me when youʼve made it back.” 

“I will.” 

“And write to me.” Ignis met his gaze. He would miss those green eyes, and all the shades they turned to. “All the time, in any way you can think of. DMs, emails, letters.” 

“Love letters?” Gladio grinned. It was a good, romantic idea for sure. 

His boyfriend nodded, without showing any hint of embarrassment. “Just keep in touch.” 

“I will. Iʼll call every day, I promise,” Gladio swore to him. 

That at least invited a flicker of a smile on Ignisʼ face as he brushed his thumb over Gladioʼs scar. 

For the last time that summer, they kissed each other, Gladio pouring all those wordless emotions he felt into it as he pulled Ignis closer by his waist, and wrapped his arms fiercely around him. Ignisʼ kept his fingers tangled around Gladioʼs hair, cupping his jaw, when they parted briefly to breathe so they could renew their kiss. For a time, that was all they did, and it almost looked like they wouldnʼt part at all. 

Ignis had to be the one to push him back. “You should go,” he sniffled, quietly, as if so as not to upset the silence. 

“I love you,” Gladio chased after him even as his feet pulled him away. This was probably just his sadness speaking but whatever. 

It made Ignis smile in that broken way as he nodded, holding onto Gladio until the last second. “I love you, too,” he told him. 

Gladio would have wanted to pull him with him to the Regalia, stand close to him until the last second but Ignis would not budge from where he stood, and he knew he was doing them both a favor. So he waved to him as he marched backwards, until he had to step inside the car. 

Through the back window, he turned to him again and waved on, as Prompto sang out his own goodbyes to Noctis. Ignis finally started to approach. 

It figures he would wait until they were pulling out of Lestallum to do it.


	31. halloween

He was either late, or their visitor was just _really_ early. 

Out the lift and down the corridor, its dark walls and ebony floor polished to capture his half-panicked reflection, Gladio finally dropped all pretenses and _ran_. He wasnʼt normally the kind to be unpunctual and rattled by the trivialities of schedules but…but that was the thing. Their visitor for the day was _highly esteemed_ for his achievements and, he was 30 minutes early. 

He nodded to the two guards pulling the doors open for him. Took one second to breathe in and breathe out before he called the attention of the man inspecting one of the tall paintings hanging over the wall, back straight, hands behind him. “Marshal, been a long time!” 

Cor Leonis was a man of great renown during his time as commander in the Crownsguard before he became a part of the kingʼs security detail. Heʼd been gone for months to undergo his own training. 

And now that he was back, he had a different training to attend to. Gladio bowed to him deeply as soon as he turned. “Good to see you again, Gladiolus.” 

“Happier to see you, Marshal,” Gladio replied. “How was your trip?” 

Cor grimaced slightly, running his hand over the back of his neck. “Could be better.” He gestured to the door from which Gladio came. “But letʼs get started. We donʼt want to be wasting any more time.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Gladio dipped his head and escorted him out the door. “Heʼs in the Crownsguard training room right now.” 

Cor nodded. “What sort of training have you both been doing?” 

“Just more or less the same stuff.” Gladioʼs answer came through with a soft sigh. “We managed to scrape by the Lucian Cup with my kind of training but I guess you already know why we had to ask for you.” 

“The Eosian Cup is definitely not something you can take lightly,” Cor agreed. They stopped in front of the elevator while Gladio punched the button. “Have you looked into the competitors like I asked you?” 

“I did,” Gladio said. “Thereʼs one champion Iʼm worried about. Ravus Nox Fleuret from the home court.”

“Oh?” Cor wrinkled his brows, frowning deeply. “What about him?” 

Gladio glanced at him briefly. “His coach is Aranea Highwind.” 

“Ah,” Cor nodded, recognizing the name. The elevator finally dinged. “The Commodore. Weʼll have to diversify His Highnessʼ training, then.” 

“Was hoping youʼd know what to say.” Gladio grinned. “Anyway, hereʼs the lift.” 

They met Noctis just as he was finishing his last form. A good time for a break where Gladio could introduce the prince to his new coach. “Iʼll still be around to keep you on your toes but he ought to make a real fencer out of you.” 

“Mustʼve hurt admitting that,” Noctis jabbed at him as he tipped his head to Cor. “Thanks for agreeing to take me in. We need all the help we can get.” 

“I wonʼt promise you that youʼll win because of me,” Cor brought his arms together, “but I can promise that youʼll give a fight out there. Weʼll take a 20-minute break and after that, letʼs see what youʼve got.” 

It was the first time the prince would finally have a coach with formal training. Months back, Gladio wouldnʼt have thought this was possible at all but their time in Lestallum, however short, had done wonders to Noctisʼ level of comfort. 

As soon as he was back in the strip, facing off with the marshal, Gladio brought out a letter from the inside of his jacket. It was a square piece, a little worn from all the places he brought it to, the number of times he read it and now, it was fashioning a new stain at the upper corner from breakfast. 

_Gladio, I hope this letter finds you well,_ it began. _You should know by now that the gladiolus bulb you sent me is growing well but I enclosed some pictures with this care package, anyway. I also added some souvenirs from Lestallum you might have missed in the six months youʼve been away, as well as a copy of my new menu._

_I canʼt believe itʼs been so long since we last met. We talk everyday and we see each other every night but I still miss you. I am counting on the late-year festivals to give my savings a little boost. And then letʼs talk about that camping trip in Cauthess again._

_All my love,  
Ignis_

—

“Sure gave you a run for your money, huh?”

“Seriously,” Noctis groaned, twisting his head carefully side to side as they made their way to his bedroom. One hour in the training room with Cor and he looked like he was ready to melt into his bed until the next day. “Why did we decide to bring him again?” 

“‘cause the Prince of Lucis canʼt look like an idiot in front of all of Niflheim,” Gladio chuckled, nudging the same princeʼs head with a careful fist. Noctis swatted him off too late, clicking his tongue in irritation. Gladioʼs phone gave a beep. “Think you got what it takes, though?” He slipped it out of his pocket.

“You asking _me_ that?” 

“Just let me know if I gotta start buying the diapers,” Gladio snickered, navigating through his phone to check his new message. 

As soon as he read Ignisʼ name, his smile brightened up, and he tapped on the picture Ignis sent him to get a closeup of the top of his food stall. Everything was still the same from what he remembered only this time, there cut-outs of black bats fluttering about. 

Which was the extent of his decoration for the Halloween Festival in Lestallum. When they chatted about this last night, Ignis had told him he refused to do more in the name of food safety. Also, stick-ons would be easy to clean up after the event. 

“Typical Ignis,” Gladio chuckled, showing the picture to Noctis. “Theyʼre having a Halloween Festival tonight and I told him to send me all the pictures.” 

“Huh, cool,” Noctis said, pulling up his lips to his cheek. “Why donʼt you just go and look at it yourself?” 

“Yeah, ‘cause the festivalʼs just outside the Citadel, right?” Gladio snorted, sending out a quick reply—a yellow face with heart eyes and a thumb up. 

“No, seriously.” Noctis stopped, then, turning to face him. “If you left now, youʼd probably make it there by 6 or 7.” Those were some wild ideas he was spewing suddenly. 

Gladio stared at him with brows tight. “What the hell are you saying?” 

“I dunno, just…” Noctis pulled a little at his hair. “Why donʼt you take the weekend off and go to Lestallum? Surprise Ignis? Just come back on Monday. The marshalʼs already here anyway…and when I asked Dad if you could go on a vacation, he said itʼs okay. Promptoʼs coming here, by the way. So you donʼt have to worry about keeping me company.” 

“Now?” This was all happening suddenly. 

“Yeah.” Noctis nodded. “Heʼs staying with me here. That is, if he can get himself to leave the chocobo post,” he laughed. “But he says heʼll be here for dinner. Heʼs just waiting for the bus.” Six Gods, Noctis was being serious! 

“So…” he went on after an awkward pause, shrugging. “Iʼll see ya next week?”

—

He must have spent less than an hour shoving whatever he could into whatever big bag he could find. Clothes for 2 days and 2 nights, his book, his power bank…whatever else he needed, he could just buy on the road or in Lestallum. The important part was that he could get himself there before the festival started.

He left Insomnia with barely a goodbye, his black SUV tearing through the bridge leading out of the Crown City. Didnʼt even think to stop anywhere to stretch his feet or to get something to eat. 

All worth it. By the time he had made it to Lestallum, the skies had just turned a shy kind of purple. Everything was just as he remembered it—the lively music, the crowd filling the lookout, the scent of the air, fresh and clean, blowing in from the crag. He saw a few familiar faces amongst the hawkers as he hurried down the other side. 

Found him marching backwards from one of the lighted lamp posts to see the effect of the orange and black ribbons connecting it to the others. Gladio couldnʼt begin to absorb how excited he was to see him. “Ignis!” 

Ignis snapped to his voice, surprise painting his face. It didnʼt take him long to find him as he approached, those green eyes opening up widely upon meeting him, his gasp stretching out to a smile as he called back to him, “ _Gladio?_ ” 

He didnʼt wait for him to close the distance between them either, hurrying over as soon as Gladio had laughed and waved to him. They saw each other everyday for the past six months, sent each other pictures of themselves to keep in their phone. 

But none of those could truly capture the way Ignisʼ green eyes lit up, or the blush on his cheeks as he smiled, and asked him, “W, w, what…w, what are you doing here?” 

“Iʼm vacationing is what,” Gladio laughed. His hands found their way to Ignisʼ soon enough, thick fingers combing at those gloved digits until they could entwine themselves together again. Like they used to. “Noct and the king told me to go on a vacation.” 

“Youʼre serious?” Ignis laughed, smiling brightly at his explanation. 

“Yeah!” Gladio laughed, giddy like a boy even without all the candies he would surely enjoy later, once the festival began in full. “So Iʼm here now. I missed you…” 

With tearful cheer, Ignis nodded. He took the time to peel his gloves, the ones Gladio had given him as a gift, so he could touch his scarred cheek with his own skin. Gladio tilted his head towards it, putting his hand over Ignisʼ. He could hardly believe that he was holding him again… 

Or that Ignis would be bringing their lips together for a kiss—the first of so many in what felt like a lifetime. Three days together could hardly be enough to satisfy it. 

But as long as he could stay close to Ignis through it all, then that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S DONEEEEE OMG i never want to do smth like that again (for a while)!!!!
> 
> but thank you for hanging on with me until the last day!! i thought it would be nbd but 31 days of writing and beating deadlines is NO JOKE. anyway happy halloween and stay safe!! o///


End file.
